Chapter 10

"What is this thing?" Susan Ivanova asked suspiciously, staring at the small circular machine Zathras handed her.

He passed off another one to Marcus, and ducked his head, even as he bobbed it. "Is time stabilizer. Otherwise, can become... unstuck, in time. Would be very bad." He clicked his tongue then took another box of the devices, and wandered off, handing one to each of the Minbari crew, leaving Ivanova gaping in his wake.

Marcus unobtrusively stepped up next to her. "He is an odd one, isn't he?" At her exasperated look, he stepped back, and threw out his arms in a pose that Ivanova supposed was meant to be dashing, but not entirely successfully. "It's not all bad," he said, grinning, "it goes well with black." He had his time stabilizer hanging on a cord about his neck, and it swung slightly next to his Ranger badge.

Ivanova worked her jaw a few times, but the stinging retort she'd worked up dissolved into a chuckle. "I suppose you're right, Marcus."

"I am?" he asked, sounding genuinely surprised.

Any reply she might have made to that was cut off when Lennier announced, "Captain, we are approaching sector 14, and I am detecting two vessels already there."

Sheridan looked up from his own stabilizer, which he'd been trying to find a place for. He finally got it to hook onto the front of his uniform jacket, and made a satisfied noise before turning to Lennier. "Let's see those ships, Mr. Lennier."

Out of a reflex born of habit, Lennier inclined his head in a slight bow, even though from his position, the captain could not see it.

In front of the command chair, a wavering holographic image dropped into view, obscuring the front half of the bridge.

Sinclair's eyebrows made a sporting attempt to reach his hairline. "Well I'll be..." He grinned sheepishly. "To tell you the truth Captain Sheridan, I didn't entirely believe you about those people, even after meeting them."

Ivanova harumphed. "That's them. That little one there was the same one that just sort of popped out of nowhere near Babylon 5."

"They certainly are strange looking enough," Marcus commented.

Sheridan had to agree. He hadn't had a chance to get up to CnC before they'd had to depart, so he hadn't seen them before. Granted, he expected to see an unfamiliar ship design, but nothing like this. The lines on the big ship, Enterprise, made no sense from his perspective. It looked like no other warship he'd ever seen, although it had a dangerous sleekness to it. It was small compared to his old command, the Agamemnon, and the hull glistened with a metallic whiteness unlike any other ship he'd ever seen. With some disapproval, he noted the large number of windows dotting the hull, and the extremely exposed position of the two pylons jutting out from the aft end. Those were certainly not features he'd be looking for in a ship that was expected to wind up in combat, even if it was not specifically a warship.

The smaller of the two vessels though, actually smaller the the White Star by a fair margin, Sheridan noticed with some surprise, was something closer to what he would expect of a heavy attack ship, or frigate. It had a tough, bulldogish quality about its snub-nosed design. Its coloration was different too, a darker grey and paneled look that more closely resembled something Earthforce might have built. But both were spangled with the same chevron insignia that Picard's communication pin had been shaped in.

Zathras broke into Sheridan's thoughts with an aggrieved complaint. "Could be problem, yes. Zathras bring time-stabilizers for you, and you, and you, and you," he said, pointing around the room. "Bring enough for whole crew. Not bring enough for them," he gestured at the screen.

"Then how are they supposed to help us?" Marcus asked disbelievingly. "I mean, they have to come through with us, don't they? Or are they just going to sit out here and send us encouraging messages. Maybe with candycanes and little red bows?"

"Ah, Zathras not know. Draal tell Zathras many things, but Draal not tell Zathras many other things." Zathras clicked and moved off, shuffling towards the front of the bridge, momentarily disrupting the holoscreen as he passed through it.

Marcus looked over at Sheridan expectantly, and the captain shrugged weakly. "Draal must have known something if he knew these people were coming, and didn't send enough equipment."

"Of course he would have," Delenn added reprovingly. She smiled up at him, and Sheridan felt like her was being pulled into her green eyes. It was almost hypnotic.

"Captain, we are being hailed by the Enterprise," Lennier said from behind them.

Sheridan started, and looked over his shoulder. "Put them on, Mr. Lennier." He looked back at the slightly shimmery disply as the view of the two Starfleet vessels was replaced by a familiar grim visage. Looking not unlike a king on his throne, Jean-Luc Picard was ensconed in his own command chair at the center of a more utilitarian bridge, surrounded by a number of other officers, including a few he recognized on sight.

Picard spoke, but his movements seemed disjointed, and lines of static scrolled through the image. "Gree---s ---tain Sheri--. We-- -----iencing difficulties wi-- --- -ommuni---"

Sheridan scowled at the barely intelligible transmission, and glanced back at Lennier.

The Minbari shrugged, and replied to the unasked question. "I do not know what is causing the interference Captain. Perhaps the proximity of the time rift is scrambling transmissions."

At that moment, the image on the viewer snapped a few times, and the static vanished. Lennier shrugged. He had not had time to do anything.

"My apologies, Captain Sheridan," Picard said wryly. "Our normal means of communication are very different from your own, and coupled with the interference from the temporal anomaly, well... you saw for yourself. But Commander Data assures me that those hurdles have been overcome."

"Glad to hear it, Captain," Sheridan replied truthfully. "But it seems we have another problem. I don't quite understand it all myself." He hesistated, and looked around, quickly spotting his target. "Zathras!" he called. "Tell Captain Picard what you told us."

Picard's face betrayed no emotion as the small weathered alien shumbled into view. Sheridan briefly and annoyingly found himself faintly envious of that stoic exterior, which was no doubt developed through more first contact situations than he could hope to match. He'd always wanted command of an Explorer, although that desire had dimmed somewhat in the past two years in command of Babylon 5.

Zathras bowed slightly to the image of the Starfleet captain. "Zathras is being pleased to meet you. Not know who you are, but Zathras is become used to not knowing." He clicked his tongue, and lifted the time stabilizer from his own ragged tunic, holding it up for inspection. "Draal give Zathras many time-stabilizers. Enough for whole crew of one ship. Draal not tell Zathras of three ships. Without time-stabilizer, can become unstuck in time." He made a hollow whistling sound. "Very bad."

To Sheridan's surprise, Picard actually seemed to understand what was going on better than he did, and the Starfleet captain nodded with clear comprehension. Then an idea struck him abruptly, and he sucked in a sharp breath. Of course. Delenn heard the sound, and looked up at him questioningly, but Picard's next words confirmed Sheridan's suspicions.

"That's what we were given to understand by our own companion, Junior, Mr... Zathras, is it?"

Zathras grunted a laugh. "Ah, Zathras no is mister, Zathras just Zathras."

Picard now looked nonplussed. "I see... Zathras, thank you."

"Zathras is glad to be helping. Is least Zathras can be doing," he added with an embarrased gesture.

Picard nodded quickly, then looked back to Sheridan. "Junior already filled us in on that detail, though he didn't see fit to mention what you were going to do about it. We've had some rather unpleasent experiences with temporal anomalies before," he said by way of explanation.

"I see," Sheridan replied, nodding slowly, "so what exactly are your ships going to do without time stabilizers?"

"With some help from Junior, we've modified out shields to withstand the temporal distortions." His voice was light enough, but Sheridan could tell that he wasn't being told everything. Something had Picard distinctly worried.

"Shields?" Ivanova asked. Her tone suggested a great many questions with one word.

From his position in front of Picard, Data looked up with a sudden keen interest. "Indeed. We have modified our shields to redirect the tachyon emissions from the rift by employing a fascinating -"

"Thank you, Mr. Data, that will be all," Picard testily interrupted.

Jeffery Sinclair finally decided that he'd heard enough. Stepping to the front of the White Star's bridge, he took the forefront. "Excuse me, Captains, but is the end result that all three of our ships can enter the rift?"

"I think so," Sheridan said.

At the same moment, Picard answered, "Quite so."

"In that case," Sinclair said with an air of paternal wisdom, "do you think we could actually get going then?"

For once, both Sheridan and Picard were left speechless.

Sinclair smiled serenely. "Much better." He turned his back on both of them, and faced the back of the bridge. "Lennier, take us in."

The Minbari paused and glance briefly at Delenn for confirmation - she nodded, once. "We are on course for the time rift," he said, when the hesitation had felt too long. "We will enter it momentarily."

A smile creeped across Picard's expression just before the screen shimmered into an image of the radiant time portal that waited for them like some great maw.

The White Star surged forward into the brilliant gateway, with the Defiant racing alongside, and the Enterprise soaring behind them like a guardian angel. And then they were through.

Behind them, unnoticed, a single tiny Starfury emerged from the rift, and tacked off in clear pursuit.

*****

The temporal rift, as they passed through it, looked far too much like the dimensional portal they'd entered that had brought them to this point in the first place, for Picard's peace of mind. But the Defiant and White Star were both still riding in front of the Enterprise, and their presence was oddly comforting.

"Mr. Data, report," Picard commanded.

Data's fingers played across his console, and he never looked up as he replied, "We have entered the rift. The shield modifications are holding, but I cannot garuantee their stability if the shields are overstressed."

"Thank you, Data, I am well aware of that." Picard tried to keep the vexed tone from his voice, but Deanna Troi's expression told him that he hadn't quite managed. But she also understood why, and said nothing, for which he was grateful. Zathras's cryptic comments about becoming "unstuck" in time only added to his concerns.

When the Enterprise had arrived at the anomaly, Data and Geordi had been conferring over the sensor readings, and concluded that neither Starfleet ship could safely enter the surging currents and flows of space and time that lay within. Junior had arrived then, ostensibly to help the Starfleet vessels overcome that problem. Already having been given more than enough examples of the elder Q's power, he was surprised that their eventual solution was entirely technological. While he knew that judging the attitude of such a being, based on physical appearence that probably wasn't remotely near a Q's true form, Junior's obvious agitation and nervous energy bothered him a great deal. What could make such a powerful being nervous? Picard found himself coming back to the same conclusion each time he thought of it, and he didn't like it. But Junior was clearly disinclined to talk about it, and glancing back over his shoulder, found the boy sitting grimly, yet quietly, in front of one of the secondary engineering consoles.

"Do you have anything yet, Data?" Riker asked sharply, cutting right to the immediate situation, and helping Picard focus his own thoughts away from his brooding.

Data started to shake his head, then perked up in obvious interest. It had always been easy to tell when Data was interested by something, and that was far more true now, as Data's expression broadcast his excitement. "Yes sir, we've just picked up Babylon 4 on short-range sensors. The interference from the temporal anomaly is decreasing at this distance."

"On screen," Picard ordered.

Data complied instantly, and on the main screen, the wash of stars was suddenly superimposed by a space station, clearly designed along the same lines as Babylon 5, and even more clearly recognizable as the same structure that had shimmered into being on Delenn's thousand-year old recordings.

"By the First Mother..." Boral murmured from behind the tactical station.

Riker stroked his chin thoughtfully, and glanced over at Troi to see her reaction. What he saw drew an involuntary gasp of concern from deep within him.

"Captain," she hissed, with an effort that startled Picard. Turning to the counselor, he noticed with some shock that her teeth were bared in an uncharacteristic display of loathing. "There's something else here... something old. Very old." Sweat was beginning to bead on her forehead. "Ancient, and malevolent. They know we're here."

Picard shoved his own concern aside, and gave voice to the thought that had been nagging him since Junior's reappearence. "Is it the M?" If one of those entities was present, he knew full well that there was nothing he or his ships could do to save this reality. And guaging by Junior's behavior, he doubted the young Q was experienced enough in his own powers to stand up to them. What other reason could there have been that Q would not only have left him here, but for Junior to remain and behave as well?

Much to his relief, Deanna shook her head forcefully. "No, I can't even sense the Q's. This is something different."

Riker was clearly less than relieved. He sounded soulsick as he asked, "What's happening, Deanna?"

"They're... calling to me," she whispered in a half-moan. "I'm not a full telepath, I can't block them!" The sweat was beginning to run down her face in rivulets. She tried to say more, then suddenly her eyes rolled up into her head, and she slumped forward.

Riker rushed forward and caught her as she fell. Voice choked with panic, he slapped his comm-badge and shouted, "Medical emergency, beam Counselor Troi directly to sickbay!"

Picard swallowed hard as Deanna vanished, and Riker sagged back into his chair. "I'm sorry, Will," he murmured inadequately.

The first officer only nodded, worry lines deeply etched into his face. But he knew his first priority was still to the ship, and he finally asked, "Do you have any idea what it was she picked up, sir?"

"No, but I can take a fairly good guess," Picard responded, more than willing to change the subject for the moment. "I think we found what we came for, Number One. Ancient, and malevolent, she said. But not M. I think we've just encountered the Shadows."

"That would seem to be a reasonable assumption, Captain," Data chimed in, turning back to look at them. "I have just detected a power signature, moving on an intercept course to Babylon 4."

The image from Delenn's briefing snapped into Picard's mind instantly. "The bomb."

Data blinked and nodded. "Indeed, sir. The power signature reads as a highly energized fusion device." Then he frowned at nothing in particular. "However sir, I am having difficulty locking on to the vessels escorting it. It is now only six hundred kilometers from Babylon 4, and the station will enter the blast range in approximately two minutes and fourteen seconds from now."

"Red alert," Riker commanded, and klaxons began to blare througout the ship. It seemed almost extraneous, since the shields were already raised, and most of the crew had sought their battlestations before entering the rift. But it had the psychological benefit of shocking everyone into full readiness.

Picard turned to look back over his shoulder. "Lieutenant Boral, contact the White Star, and give them the coordinates of that device."

The Bolian hastened to comply, and a moment later, glanced up from his console. "The White Star acknowledges, and reports that they will engage it immediately."

Sheridan pounded his fist into the armrest of his command chair, and swore darkly. "C'mon, faster, faster! Susan, do you have a lock on them?"

The White Star was screaming through space, barreling towards their target for a clean kill. Unfortunately, the target had other ideas, and was already far closer to Babylon 4 than it was to the White Star.

"Not yet, Captain," Ivanova yelled above the howl of the engines. "We'll be in range in another twenty seconds."

"Captain, Babylon 4 will be within the blast radius of the bomb in another twelve seconds," Lennier pointed out.

Sheridan thumped his fist down with a final sound, and looked over to his first officer. "Go to manual Susan, and give it your best shot!"

Ivanova scowled, and said soemthing vulgar in Russian, but hit the appropriate controls. "Going to manual, aye." Then her concentration was focused entirely on the panels in front of her.

Leaping up from the command chair, Sheridan ran to the bow of the bridge, and glared out the windows. At that range, there'd be nothing to see, but at least it made him feel as if he were actually doing something. Stuck in the center seat, he felt too much like a cheerleader, merely hoping things would come out all right.

"Captain, I believe I have determined the reason for our presence here," Data said in a completely flat tone. Obviously, he'd decided to deactivate his emotion chip for the time being. "I have just detected a second energy signature nearly identical to the first."

Another bomb. It was simple, but the White Star alone could never have dealt with both at once. Except the White Star was not alone, Picard thought with a glimmer of anticipation.

"Lock on to it, and bring us to full impulse," he commanded. "The moment we enter range, target those fighters with phasers, and lock a tractor beam on the-"

To Picard's surprise, the voice that interrupted him was not Data's, but Boral's. "Sir," the Bolian intoned, "the White Star has entered the blast radius of the first bomb."

"Belay that last!" Picard said quickly. "Boral, tell Commander Worf that the second bomb is all his."

Riker looked briefly alarmed, as the implications sank home. On the screen, the White Star suddenly erupted into a spitting demon of destructive energy.

Picard set his jaw in a determined look his crew had seen before. So for most of them, it was little surprise when he ordered, "Bring us alongside, and extend our shields around them."

At the back of the bridge, Junior stirred, and mumbled, "Captain?" But his voice was quiet, and went unheeded.

That was just as well, for a moment later, a small sun exploded into being on the screen. The filters popped on almost immediately to cut off the painfully bright glare, but even so, Picard had to blink the spots from his eyes. "Merdé!" Picard whispered hoarsely. There hadn't been time to carry out his order.

"It looks like they got the first bomb, Worf," Ezri Dax announced, looking up from her science console. "I just registered a fusion detonation. A big one."

"Understood." Worf had left the center chair vacant and was seated behind the tactical console. He found that he was much more comfortable there, than sitting uselessly in the center of the bridge. "Is the second device in range of the station yet?"

"Well in range," Ezri confirmed.

Worf grunted in reply, and scowled darkly at his own screens, unhappy with what they were telling him. "I still cannot aquire a target lock. Ensign Nog, get us between the station and that device."

"Aye sir," Nog answered, their only warning before Defiant surged beneath them, its overpowered engines outracing the inertial dampeners. The pug-nosed starship rolled hard and bolted towards the location Worf had demanded.

The instant they jerked to a relative halt, Nog whipped the ship to a heading aimed right at the incoming explosive. Worf's hands raced with practiced precision across his console, as he performed several tasks at once, none of them boding well for the Shadows.

Defiant rippled into existence directly in the path of the bomb. The urchin-like Shadow fighters towing it made a futile attempt to evade, and several broke off to launch themselves at the starship. Phaser pulses lanced out and those ships were instantly removed from existence. Several more carefully aimed shots destroyed those still clinging to the bomb, and it was quickly bathed in an eerie blue glow as the Defiant's tractor beam enfolded it.

"Sir, the Defiant reports that they've towed the second bomb to a safe distance, and are preparing to detonate it."

Picard nodded to the tactical officer. "Thank you, Mr. Boral."

Data looked up from his console and turned about, smiling broadly. With the danger over, he'd apparently elected to reactivate his emotion chip. "Captain, I've located the White Star. They've sustained some hull damage, but are completely intact. In fact, the hull appears to be reparing itself. Our experience with organic vessel construction is very limited, and I'd like to study this further."

"Later, Mr. Data," Picard said, managing a relieved sigh.

"Captain," Boral announced, "the White Star is hailing us."

"Onscreen."

A face appeared on the viewscreen, in place of the one Picard had expected to see, one that was sharp but kindly, despite a hint of anxiety in the lines around the the eyes.

"Ambassador Sinclair," Picard started with some consternation. "We thought we'd lost you there for a moment."

One side of Sinclair's mouth tugged upward in grim irony. "No, we're still here, Captain. At least, most of us."

Picard felt a leaden weight drop into his stomach. Data's expression was one of pure apprehension, that nearly mirrored Riker's when Troi had fallen unconcious. Obviously, there'd be only one reason Sinclair, and not Sheridan, would have answered the hail, but Picard wouldn't voice his concerns. "Understood," he said hollowly, and saw that Sinclair knew that he knew. "What happened?"

"The blast wave from that bomb hit us pretty hard. Captain Sheridan's time stabilizer was damaged," Sinclair replied sadly.

A gravelly voice in the background added, "Yes, very bad. He is become unstuck in time."

That was actually better news than Picard had feared. At least this way, there was a possibility, however remote, of recovering Babylon 5's commanding officer.

Sinclair ignored the interruption, and continued, "Zathras says he might be able to fix the stabilizer. But our main objective now is to get aboard Babylon 4, and attach the larger time stabilizers and jump controls so it can withstand the stress of a thousand-year jaunt."

Picard nodded sharply. He knew from personal experience just how painful being tossed around like driftwood in the tides of time could be. But he also knew that Sinclair was right about their priorities. "Agreed, Ambassador. The Enterprise will move off to avoid detection after we beam over. But the Defiant can take up a position near Babylon 4. From there, after the initial beam-in, our transporters are at your disposal."

Sheridan dipped his head gratefully. "Thank you, Captain."

The moment the screen went blank, something clicked in Picard's mind. His reflection back on his own time-hopping memories reminded him of who had been able to cause such a thing. "Junior," he said, turning to the boy seated at one of the aft engineering stations, "you can-"

Junior stared back ashenly, and sweat glistened on his head as a tremor ran through his body. He looked like Picard had felt after he'd lost the Starfleet Academy Marathon the first time he ran it, back in his youth – like he'd exerted himself to the utmost, only to fail. That sense of failure was chisled into Junior's face, along with something darker.

"I can't," he moaned wearily. "I tried, but I couldn't."

Picard craned his neck so he could watch the boy from his position. "What did you try? And what do you mean you can't?"

"I mean that I tried to erase those bombs from existence the nanosecond we arrived in this time. You know, just a simple" – he snapped his fingers demonstratively – "manipulation of space-time. Even for a young q that's easy." But the godling looked harried, and genuinely worried. "But I couldn't do it! It's M, it has to be."

"You were expecting this, weren't you?" Picard asked in a tone that wasn't questioning. "That's why you insisted on the shield modifications."

Junior seemed to wilt under the captain's glare, even from across the bridge. "I wasn't expecting it, not exactly, but it was a possibility."

"Dammit, Junior, I should have been told. The next time you think of a 'possibility,' tell me about it!" Picard sighed heavily and turned back towards the screen. "Lieutenant Boral, hail the Defiant."