I'd like to thank all of you guys who have taken the time to review the story, some of you have even had some good ideas that has made us reconsider a few things so again my thanks as well as that of the Chronicles team of Tyr and Lord of Misrule. This chapter is an introduction of another writter to the team, even though he's only done this chapter we consider him part of the team, some of you may know his work on "Derelict" another great story we all recommend. So my thanks to him for writting this outstanding chapter. Enjoy everyone.

On another note I apologize for the crude breaks between sections, I don't know what Fanfiction uses but its extremly fustrating! I've tried everything I know to smooth over the breaks in section but it keeps reseting it. So agian I apologize and hope you guys can follow along without too much difficulty.

A Diplomatic Incident. Part I

Jack O'Neill was engrossed in the mountain of paperwork sitting on his desk.

This was not by choice.

A decorated Special Forces operative who had spent twenty years in an unbroken string of 'Black' operations from Iran to East Germany, paperwork had never bee of major concern to Jack. That was simply the way Black Operations worked; the fewer records kept the less the chances of a foreign intelligence service (or God forbid Congress) finding out about things they really didn't want to know about.

The irony for Jack O'Neill was that with flag rank came more paperwork per month then he had touched in the last ten years combined. Stargate Command might still be blacker then deep space, but it was a frontline command in the US military, meaning inevitability, it had been sucked into the black hole of Pentagon bureaucracy. Picking up the last pile of papers from his 'in' tray, Jack started to sort through them, looking for the easiest item to start off with.

The monthly SGC budget? Pass!

Colonel Dixons P4X-664 mission report? He put that in the 'maybe' pile. He had spent a horrifying thirty minutes with Balinsky being lectured on completely worthless ruins dating from the first Goa'uld dynasty.

He doubted the report had anything significant to add on that topic.

Requisitions request by the armory on behalf of SG3 for a dozen Javelin ATGM launchers? Shrugging, Jack stamped an approval. High explosives made the jarheads happy and he had first call from SOCOM on any equipment orders.

Post dated authorization for the EA contingent to expand their command and control centre on sub level twenty two? A signature here and initial there and that problem was solved.

Final specifications and schematics for the flight II Daedalus class ships…Jack flipped through the executive summery, nodding in approval at the projected yields of the experimental weapons systems then tossed it to the side so he could flip through it over lunch. Big honking space guns went down well with roast beef.

Complaint from NSA about the SGC steeling the CIA's satellite time?

He decided he wasn't really in any mood for bureaucratic infighting between intelligence agencies.

And every other folder was personnel reports.

Lots and lots and lots of personnel reports.

Sighing once again, Jack picked up the budget folder, but was interrupted by a glorious, wondrous noise.

His phone was ringing.

All thoughts of accounting fled from his mind, his free hand grabbed for the half buried phone on his desk, sending folders sliding everywhere.

"O'Neill"

"Sir I have General Hammond on the line for you from the NMCC".

"Put him through" O'Neill ordered, sitting up straight in his chair and tossing the budget file across the desk. A series of clicks echoed through the line as the digital scrambler reconfigured and then a familiar voice broke through.

"Jack?"

"General!" O'Neill responded happily. Though if it was because of his CO's voice or the fact that he had a distraction from the paperwork, he couldn't tell…and didn't really care, he was happy either way. Pushing all thoughts of paperwork out of his mind, he leaned back in his absurdly expensive leather chair.

Flag rank did have some privileges after all.

"What can I do for you Sir?"

"Jack I need you to go on an off world mission" Hammond started without preamble. "Well actually, it's more of an off universe mission, if you get my drift".

Jack didn't.

"Yes…but you can fill me in on the details?"

"The President", Hammond continued, "has authorized negotiations with the Interstellar Alliance and the Earth Alliance to move up to the State level. Our allies of course want to be involved every step of the way, so we will be sending a delegation out to Babylon Five tomorrow with you in overall command".

Jack paled slightly at the prospects for diplomatic catastrophe starting to materialize in his mind.

"Uh…Sir with all due respect-"

"Relax Jack, no-one is asking you to conduct the negotiations" Hammond snickered slightly, if in good humor, visualizing his subordinate's look of stark terror quite accurately in his mind. "Richard Woosley will be the IOC and our lead representative. You'll just be along to advise him on any military issues that might come up".

"Military issues?" Jack asked…then belatedly added 'Sir?'

"You'll be having a few meetings with some Earthforce military personnel" Hammond clarified "Joint training exercises, strategic situation reviews in both Universes, conference on a few of the more military technology transfers and so on that sort of thing. Nothing too fancy, you'll mostly be on hand to offer Mister Woosley any advice he might require".

"Well…that seams pretty straight forward" Jack allowed, refusing to believe for a second the mission would be that simple. Close to nine years at Stargate Command had taught him a valuable lesson in life.

Nothing was ever that simple.

"You'll depart on the Prometheus from Groom Lake at zero five hundred tomorrow morning; all her resources will be at your disposal for the duration of the mission". Hammond paused for a second to gather his thoughts.

"Jack, this could very well be the biggest breakthrough for Earth since the protected planets treaty. The President asked for you specifically for this mission-"

Oh thanks, no pressure at all Jack thought to himself-

"-but it should be a straight up diplomatic meet and greet. President Sheriden hammered out most of the agreements with Earth months back on behalf of the Interstellar Alliance; the IOC got everything put together last week".

"It took that long?" Jack wondered, surely it wasn't THAT hard to get a delegation together.

Hammond chuckled slightly.

"That's the price of international co-operation Jack. But the problems were not so much on our end. President Sheridan promised us a great deal of technology for our help, though what he offered was mostly Earth Alliance technology which he technically didn't have any right to offer. Now the Alliance didn't care given what we've done for them and what we're doing for them. But politicians are the same in any reality, when you get right down to it".

Jack thought about it for a few seconds. Put that way it DID sound relatively simple…but on the other hand-

I'll be taking Carter and Daniel with me. They've been moping around the base too long anyway".

"I thought you might" Hammond replied and Jack could hear the smile in his voice. "Give them my best. Godspeed Jack, Hammond out".

A click and the line disconnected. Stabbing his finger at the phones cradle, he got a dial tone back and pressed a button. Two rings it was picked up.

"Operations".

"Walter? Get a hold of Carter and Daniel and send them down to my office will you? Oh and General Franklin as well". Walter acknowledged and O'Neill hung up the phone before turning back to his pile of paperwork. He might be going off world tomorrow after all, but if didn't get this pile cleared today, he knew there would be hell to pay.

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Without warning and without announcement, the massive silver structure of the inter-universal gateway activated. The duty officer of the EAS Vesta froze for a few seconds at the majestic and terrifying site, before snapping himself out of his stupor as he hit the 'all hands' switch on his link.

"Attention all decks, the gateway is activating. All command officers; to your duty stations. Communications; get Sol Fleet Command online and tell them we have company coming. Weapons; bring the defense platforms to standby and get our own systems ready. Fighter command; stand by to launch".

The bridge crew sprang into action at his rapid fire orders, voices overlapping as they communicated with distant officers, some as far away as Earth orbit, to prepare for the incoming contacts. Orbiting the gateway, a quartet of "G.O.D" heavy defense platforms fired their thrusters, re-orienting to bring their weapons to bear on what was probably going to be a friendly ship…but might not be.

Earth had learned the hard way from the Minbari (and now the Drakh) about being prepared in their home system.

"Massive energy spike, still increasing…hell it's going off the scale" the sensor officer called out as the computer admitted defeat and stopped trying to recalibrate the waveform on his screen in real time.

Seconds later, the quartet of white lights on the oval shaped structure flared to blinding levels before spreading out into a blue surface of quantum partials, through which a ship materialized.

"Sensor profile matches the Prometheus" the sensor officer sang out as her displays cleared, letting her lock onto the new silhouette and deciding that it did match the X303's…and not a Goa'uld mothership.

"IFF also confirms" the communications officer added as the transponder on the small Battle Cruiser was interrogated by the Vesta's communications system. "They are requesting clearance to proceed-"

"Captain on the Deck" a new voice interrupted from the back of the bridge, causing the duty officer to swing around as Captain Edward MacDugan entered his command centre, pleased to note none of his crew abandoned their tasks to jump up and salute him despite many of them being relatively new officers on their first cruise, his command style was already rubbing off of the greenhorns.

"Ed, what have we got?" he asked as he stepped around the railing and moved to his command chair.

"Prometheus has just transitioned through the Gateway. IFF is nominal and they are requesting permission to depart the vicinity".

"Very well, signal the Prometheus they are clear to proceed to the Epsilon system, then signal system stand down. And tell the IPX team they can get back to work" MacDugan ordered as the near frantic activity of the last twenty seconds slowly fell away.

A team from IPX thanks to the translations Doctor Jackson had provided and some basic technical information supplied by the SGC was starting to make headway in analyzing the technology of the universal Gate, less to determine how it worked (that would take years if not decades even with technical help from the SGC) but more how it fit with the known Timeline the SGC had mapped out for the Ancients.

There were too many unanswered questions, especially with the evidence of the Ancients messing with evolution on a galactic scale in the alternate universe and Earth Gov wanted answers to the millions of year's old dilemma now,.

And damn the fact that the Gate was a level of technology only the First Ones could match.

That ISN still hadn't caught onto the story of a lifetime was still something of a shock, though it was understandable given that the Media on Earth was still a little distracted by the biogenetic plague that had been unleashed. They had hounded Earth Force about the origins of the Daedalus for a few days until the constant 'No Comment' responses had convinced them it had to be some kind of secret prototype rushed into the battle when things were to dire.

Earth Force as a whole was perfectly happy to let them keep thinking that.

The Vesta was here as much to make sure no intruders came through from the other side as to ensure an ISN shuttle didn't try to fly through the rift, land in the one of the alternate Earths major cities and start interviewing people.

Looking at the Prometheus, he couldn't help but think the Battle Cruiser looked so small to his eyes for such a designation…but he knew its size was deceptive. By the accounts of what her sister ship had done to a Shadow planet killer, he knew full well this 'small ship' could be expected to kick around a Warlock class Destroyer for a warm up before beating up on Minbari War cruisers if she got really mad.

Watching as the ship gracefully rolled away then punched through a dark purple rift into their own version of Hyperspace, he couldn't help but shiver slightly at the thought of the technology on that ship, a shiver he had felt only once before in his carrier.

Several days before the final battle in the civil war Clark, had played his last ace in the hole. The Vesta and two dozen other Omegas had jumped with weapons hot into what they had expected to be an all out combat zone Commander Ivoniva had jumped into a short time before, with no word since. The lack of contact as the minuites dragged by had finally driven Captain James of the Agamemnon to put together a heavy battle group to investigate Ivoniva's flotilla's status...and finish the fight if she had fallen.

Instead, the formation of slate grey warships had slowly moved into a massive graveyard. Here and there the wreckage of Whitestars burned slowly as leaking oxygen fueled fires, but the vast majority of the debris was made up of shattered Omega class spaceframes, a field of debris covered in the shimmering texture of Shadow Bio-Armor Technology.

The Battle Group had picked up four dozen Minbari and a handful of human rangers in life pods, which was a horrifying outcome given over three hundred had crewed the small fleet of Warships…but of the over eight thousand officers and men on board the loyalist ships, none had even attempted to leave their commands.

It hadn't mattered that they had been the elite guard, fanatical supporters of the Clark regime, nor that they had been ordered (and perfectly willing) to blast every Earthforce ship that had defected to Sheridan's side into non-associated molecules. Eight thousand of Earth Force's finest had died thanks to the son of a bitch in that battle alone. The taskforce had lingered for several hours combing through the wreckage in hope of a miracle, then returned to the fleet, bringing a grim determination to end the war before other such sacrifices in the name of a madman were made.

Bringing his thoughts back to the present, Mackie could only thank God that Clark in his rampant quest for advanced technology hadn't stumbled upon the Gateway. The thought of what he could have done with an unholy marriage of Shadow technology and the advanced alien technology Stargate Command used…

Forcing himself to push those thoughts out of his mind, he stood from his command chair and with a last look at the Gateway, turned towards the bridge access corridor. The Galaxy had learned its lesson well; the ISA had placed a flat ban on R&D of any kind of Shadow technology. An agreement both Earth and the rest of the member races had signed.

Humanity had learned its lesson. And he just hoped no race would be stupid enough to open THAT Pandora's Box again.

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In deep space, where no Hyperspace beacon led, where no Jump Gate existed and where no chart recorded anything at all of note; a void sat.

To an observer close to the edge of the 'void' it would simply appear to be a black sphere though which distant stars no longer shined. If one trained the more advanced sensors used by most races in this Galaxy upon it, they would find an enigma, all kinds of energy were simply sucked into the void, keeping its secrets hidden from anything but a point blank visual contact with the field.

The Shadows, Vorlons, Ancients or Asgard may have been able to see through the barrier…but given that the first three had moved 'beyond the rim' and the last had not the slightest interest in this universe, the field was sufficient.

Of course a ship on the outside could attempt passage through the field to try and unlock its secrets…

…but without an invitation, it is unlikely they would survive the experience.

Thousands of starships from tiny attack ships to gigantic Motherships circled in lazy orbits around a planetoid whose surface glistened with a black on black shimmer that would bring back bad memories for far too many races in this Galaxy.

This location so carefully hidden from prying eyes was a primary staging point for the Drakh fleet, one of their former master's ingenious technological achievements giving them a safe harbor from which to rebuild, mass their fleets and wait. While only a portion of the entire Drakh fleet, the striking power of the raiders, cruisers, attack ships and Motherships gathered here was terrifyingly beautiful to behold in its own right.

Deep inside the planetoid, a group of Drakh stood around a holographic projector. Galactic maps, diagrams and intelligence reports scrolled almost at random in front of the half dozen beings that silently plotted their moves with the patience, skill and care of any chess player.

Though their stakes were far higher then any mere game.

The darkness of the room only served to exaggerate their indistinct blurry forms as they silently communicated with each other over, studying the opportunity that was presented before them.

With their Centuari puppet feeding them the supplies and material they needed to rebuild the heavy losses they suffered in the attack on Earth, the Drakh really had little to do but wait patiently in the dark for the chaotic nature of the universe to take its course.

However, they were not above helping it along when they were needed.

The humans on Earth had, to their delight, gone into complete panic for weeks once the true nature of their attack had become public knowledge. It had taken Earthdome much effort to bring the planet back to a relative state of calm, one which doomsday groups (including several infiltrated by their own keeper controlled pawns) were doing their best to disrupt. A weakened and pre-occupied Earth Alliance was a good thing for them, for as the humans went, so did the Interstellar Alliance.

A stone building could not stand without mortar after all and the humans had proven to be that force which held the other races together. A surprise to their former masters, but a lesson their servants had learned well.

One element in their plans however remained outside either their control or manipulation and like a rock thrown into a pond; the ripples from its effects had begun to touch on their own subtle manipulations of the universe.

Their network of keeper controlled agents on Earth (this branch inside Earthdome which they didn't expect to last not much longer, EA Counter Intelligence was getting rather good at rooting out their agents) had informed them that the strange humans from this alternate reality were going to Babylon Five to negotiate a formal treaty of alliance and co-operation between themselves, the Earth Alliance and the Interstellar Alliance. They clearly had access to technology that could radically shift the balance of power, if their ship that had withstood withering salvos of Shadow built weapons in the Planet Killer was any indication.

And if their reports were to be believed; an entire city of First One's technology was in their possession.

Unacceptable.

The blurry almost indistinct forms of the Drakh standing around the table reached a consensus without saying a word audibly, all bowing to one of their number who while looking little different to a humans eyes, was none the less treated with reverence and awe by the rest of his fellows, before they stepped away into the darkness and vanished from sight.

The remaining Drakh extended his hand almost imperiously. Obediently, the holograph image wavered then collapsed before almost appearing to 'flow' onto his palm.

The Drakh regarded the slowly rotating image of Babylon Five for a few seconds, reflecting on how much this one insignificant and primitive station had cost their race…this so called bastion of light from which the Humans and Minbari had banished their Masters forever.

Then he reflected on the ripples they would cause when they turned this most famous (and by far still busiest) station in the Galaxy into a cloud of debris orbiting a dead world.

Smiling slightly under his mask, the Drakh closed his hand into a fist, extinguishing the light in the room into the glory of darkness.

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"ETA Epsilon Eridani Three, sixty seconds".

Pendergast signed off a report before swiveling his chair around to nod in acknowledgement at his helmsman's comment, trying not to stare beyond him at the gaggle of civilians standing in his command centre.

It had taken him several hours to control the almost instinctive wince that had burst onto his face whenever he had so much as thought about the delegates running around his ship, he considered it an astonishing achievement that now he was able to simply nod politely and direct any questions to Major Gant while he ran off on an urgently needed errand somewhere.

The look however had almost returned when Jack O'Neill had informed him he had invited the IOA group up to the bridge to watch the reversion from Hyperspace.

Unfortunately as Jack now distinctly outranked him and was the nominal mission commander, his first instinct to have the bridge put into a class one lockdown was no longer an option.

The diplomats on his bridge at least were good at hiding their feelings about him, the ship and their mission, they would have to be. They had been chosen by their countries to be let 'in' on the Stargate program via the IOC and so had been carefully screened and briefed by their various Foreign Offices and State Departments.

But they still stared completely slack jawed at the happily twisting whirlpool of hyperspace outside the bulkhead, even after almost fifteen minutes in transit.

"Are we there yet?"

Smiling slightly, Pendergast slowly rose from his chair out of respect for the person behind that voice, turning to watch General Jack O'Neill, Doctor Daniel Jackson and Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter stride onto the bridge, the General glancing enviously towards Pendergast as the trio walked to join the scrum of diplomats. Lionel guessed that the look was directed less at him specifically and more at the flight suit he wore; the General was dressed in an immaculately pressed Class A uniform, as was Samantha Carter behind him.

He knew unlike Hammond, the new CO of the SGC still wore utilities more in line with SG teams, with only a pair of Generals stars added to differentiate him from the personnel around the base. Jack might not be 'one of the gang' anymore thanks to his promotion, but he had flat out refused to wear his dress uniform to work everyday…and rank did have its privileges, few as they were for such a job.

Colonel Carter he noticed wore her dress uniform as if born to it, but then her carrier had sent her to the Pentagon far more then any operational military theater, her 'salad bar' of ribbons reflected this when compared to Jacks bulging array of medals and campaign listings. Daniel was dressed in a conservative very high quality Armani business suit that no normal academic could possibly come close to affording, but of course Daniel was rather more then a normal academic. He was still paid at consultant rates by the United States Air Force and had little need to spend the steadily building pile of cash in his bank account, so he had a rather catching selection of civilian clothes for the rare occasions he wasn't either offworld or 'hanging' as Jack put it at the SGC. As well as a set of well tailored suits for the occasional offworld diplomatic mission with the more advanced cultures the SGC had come into contact with.

Something that quite probably amused the Asgard to no end.

"Coming up on exit point in three…two…one…" Major Gant read from her console and with a flash of white light, the ships autopilot triggered the hyperdrive reversion sequence and let the Prometheus fall back into normal space at precisely designated co-ordinates.

In Babylon Five C&C, Captain Elizabeth Lochley idly tugged at her dress uniform, trying uselessly to get some kind of air into her lungs around the absurdly high collar Earthforce delighted in putting on all their formal uniforms. After a few seconds, she managed to secure a sufficient oxygen flow that she could put off death for at least another ten minutes, letting her get back to reading her book.

The book was titled 'Get the hell out of our Galaxy' and was an advanced copy that her former husband had managed to secure for her as a Birthday present. It wasn't due to go on sale for a week, but orders across the Earth Alliance had already been through the roof. Written by Professor L Count (though in truth a half dozen highly respected Earth academics had really co-authored it with him), there was already growing demand from other alien publishing companies for reprint rights.

The book was so widely in demand because for the vast majority of the Earth Alliance, this was their first look into a war which few of them had seen or heard of until it had finished, but had been at the core of everything that had happened between the assassination of President Santiago and the suicide of President Clark.

Oh to be sure several vid documentaries on ISN had been made with guests arguing for hours on what had really happened, shortly after Clarks death had taken place, but they had been full of (and received as) half speculation and half based on disinformation that had come from Clark's former propaganda machine.

To facilitate writing about the scope of something as large as the Shadow War, Count and his team had been given unprecedented access to the key players in the conflict. Including interviews with the members of B5's former crew, notable persons in Earthdome and the anti Clark resistance, interviews with key Minbari and ISA figures and exclusive interviews with Delenn and Sheridan themselves, the two who had confronted both groups of First Ones at Coriana Six and informed them "their services were no longer required" as the professor had put it.

Lochley hadn't been able to put the book down since it had been shipped to her. She knew as much about the Shadow Wars as the writers did, if not more thanks to her former Husband, but the book was just superbly written.

She had just finished the third chapter, which had detailed the conspiracy between the Shadows, Psi Corps and Clark to murder Santiago, when her executive officer, Lieutenant Commander David Corwin, spoke up.

"Captain…I'm detecting an Energy surge in grid sixteen by eight. EM spike across the board, strength two and rising"

Lochley raised her gaze from the book to the chronometer plugged into the console next to her, noting eleven AM Earth Standard was only about ten seconds off.

"I'll say this for them, they're punctual" the Captain replied, dropping her book into a draw at her station before standing and walking to join Corwin at the primary console overlooking the docking bay.

"Which security bots do we have in the area?"

"Six and eleven. I'm pulling their feeds now" the Commander replied, anticipating her request as the Babcom window shifted to a feed from the tiny robots floating around space.

The cameras showed nothing but starfield at first, then with a hazy purple flash, a ship appeared to almost blur into existence, as if decelerating from a great velocity into realspace.

She would say this for the Prometheus; it sure as hell looked human. Only humans could possibly build something that looked so ugly and deadly at the same time.

"Commander, roll out the welcome matt".

Corwin nodded and taped a control twice.

"Prometheus this is Babylon Five C&C. Welcome to Epsilon Eridani".

There was a delay of a few seconds, then a strong steady voice responded with a slight squeal that was squelched by the stations communications systems. "C&C this is Prometheus, copy that and we're glad to be here. Our diplomatic party is anxious to get the ball rolling".

"Copy that" Corwin stated, pressing another sequence of buttons to access the Security bot's navigational controls and designating several preset waypoints. "Follow the Security bot in front of you into a holding slot, we'll get a shuttle out to you shortly…"

"…and they'll ferry your diplomats aboard. C&C, out".

Pendergasts communication with B5 went almost un-noticed by the gaggle of personnel gawking at the massive structure. Starfuries, shuttles and maintenance bots moved productively through the area around the station, looking like ants next to a mountain. Larger ships such as a pack of White Stars flying from the Jump Gate or a pair of Omega class destroyers at rest next to it were impressive in size to Pendergast…but even they looked completely insignificant next to the mammoth station.

"Did you know this style of Space Station is generally known as an O'Neill type?" Carter commented lightly as Prometheus slowly accelerated after the tiny robot in front of them.

"Get out" Jack grinned, looking at the structure with a new appreciation.

"Yeah the idea came from the writer Gerard O'Neill back in the sixties. A large space station in the shape of a huge rotating cylinder to simulate gravity by centrifugal force".

"I thought the Earth Alliance had artificial gravity technology?" Daniel commented, tearing his glance from the majestic structure to Carter as he thought back to their time on board the Excalibur.

"They do now, although their grasp of the technology is far from perfect. When they built the station, they didn't have that technology and this was the best they could do. It would be too hard to refit the station for artificial gravity technology and there really isn't any need to do so. Of course that means that near the central core of the station, the acceleration imparted by the rotation of the station when compared to the centripetal force…"

The remaining members of SG1 simply stared at her.

Thanks to years of long experience with that look, Carter changed gears.

"So uh, you want to move carefully around there so you don't go floating off".

The remaining members of SG1 nodded.

The lights on the back of the Security Bot turned from green to red and with delicate puffs of its thrusters, started to slow down. The gentle deceleration was completely unnecessary of course, Prometheus could stop on a dime if needed, but it was thoughtful and the helmsman was careful not show off as he brought the ship to a halt next to the gargantuan station that now completely filled the ships port windows.

If there was ever such a thing as a traffic jam in space, Babylon Five would have to come close to it. Hundreds of ships, mostly civilian cargo ships, shuttles, couriers, passenger liners and a handful of warships were crowded into space around the station, a near constant stream of small ships entering and leaving the gigantic structure and the Jump Gate regularly opening and closing as traffic came and left the star system.

With Earth off limits at least for the short term and the Sol system still under a near lockdown status, a huge number of businesses that worked out of the Sol System had opened new offices on Babylon Five. The station hadn't been this busy since the height of the Shadow war, with its nominal population of a quarter million pretty much maxed out. It was only the fact that tens of thousands of people were only staying for a few days at a time that had prevented Babylon Five from starting to turn away people from docking…

All of which made it the perfect place to conduct diplomatic negotiations under the radar, lost in the bustle of business.

Adding to the traffic jam was the shape of an EarthForce mobile spacedock sitting five kilometers above Babylon Five. Quite similar in design to the construction docks that had built the Victory class prototypes, it was only a fifth the size, but it was hyperspace capable and equipped with a modular slipway capable of being built to take ships the size of a Warlock class Destroyer.

Gant's headset beeped slightly, causing her to look down at her board.

"Sir, incoming transmission from an EA shuttle, they say they're hear to pick up the ambassadorial party and bring them to B5". Sure enough, a small shuttle was curving around from B5 and angling for the hanger bay on the Prometheus. It sure looked more comfortable then the tiny cramped utility shuttles they had been planning to use to transfer the staff…

"Acknowledge the signal and pass them off to the hanger deck, make sure they kill the artificial gravity there before they land, those things are not built to operate inside a gravity well unassisted" Pendergast ordered, thinking it would be a rather bad start to their diplomatic mission if an EA shuttle crash landed on their flight deck.

Presently, Richard Woosley stepped away from the diplomats, all doing their best to effect a look of detached interest in the events outside the window – and all failing miserably.

"Colonel, my thanks for getting us here. I will endeavor to get your crew cleared for shore leave with Captain Lockley and I have no doubt they will carry themselves with a pride and manner that will do the Air Force - and our planet" he added for the benefit of the other great power representatives behind him, "proud".

Pendergast read between the lines easily.

Keep them the hell out of any bars and under control!

"It was out pleasure Mister Woosley, we'll be here to take you back on Thursday".

Shaking the offered hand, then the offered hands of the rest of the diplomats who refused to be upstaged, he watched as the former NID agent led them into the bridge access way and towards the elevator.

"Thank God that's over" he muttered when he was sure they were out of earshot, half to himself and half to O'Neill.

It took a very brave Colonel to make comments like in front of a one star General, but Jack and Pendergast had known each other well before his promotion and on his bridge, Jack was more then happy to grant him that leeway.

The man may not be Ronson, but he had more then earned it.

Patting him on the shoulder with a sympathetic smile, Jack walked off the bridge with Sam and Daniel following, catching up with the group as they entered the elevator for the start of their own mission.

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Ambassador Vanessa Bartlett of the Earth Alliance was nervous.

Sure she was one of the most senior ambassadors that Earthdome had working for them off world when the plague at hit, which put her on the spot as Earths defacto off world ambassador to the ISA and its member nations …but that was just a faster then expected trip up to the job she had known would always be hers.

She had managed to survive the Clark Regime without being forced to take a side, no small achievement. Personally, she had felt little but disgust for the man as he completely ruined five years of work rebuilding relations after the Earth Minbari war. But she had survived his blunders…and the aftermath of his reign.

As one would expect, a silent but none the less very real purge had moved through the EA Government after Clark's death. The ex-presidents Inner circle were rounded up rather quickly and put on trial, the ministries of Truth and Peace disbanded and core figures arrested as necessary, though a few of the more well connected had seen the writing on the wall and quietly faded away before they could be arrested, as had many high ranking Psi cops a few years later.

The diplomatic service had not been exempt. People like that idiot Lantze had been 'retired' quietly, having not truly done anything illegal, but not being really suitable for the new order. Which had left carrier diplomats like Vanessa to fill the gap, sent into the front lines immediately as Earth vigorously re-engaged with the Interstellar Alliance and its member nations in a new age of prosperity and peace.

No, she wasn't nervous over the prospect of just another diplomatic negotiation. She had enough experience in negotiating with the Minbari, Drazi, Narn and the Centuari that she felt confident in her ability to handle any alien negotiations easily enough.

What made her nervous were the people she would be negotiating with were not aliens.

They were human.

Oh sure the various races had shown suggestions of abilities their stereotypes didn't hint at. The Minbari would occasionally skirt the edge of the truth to gain an advantage, justifying it to themselves later with some kind of twisted logic. The Drazi could occasionally not leap to their feet snarling and accuse their opposite number of lying to their face, because they were always right. And while she found the Narn charmingly direct, every now and again one could surprise her with a depth of thought she wouldn't have expected.

But humans…no other race she had ever met could ever come close to the skill in negotiations that her own kind could. There was no sterotype that could fit any one human, there was no monolithic culture form which a baseline could be calibrated…there was nothing but polite faces of professional diplomats who knew every trick in the book and wouldn't hesitate to use any one of them.

And these representatives she had to meet knew that fact just as well as she did…and were experts in doing this for a living rather then dealing with alien cultures.

To say even this relatively simple set of negotiations would be a challenge compared to her usual jobs…would be an understatement.

Still, this was her ticket to big things in Earthdome…when the quarantine was lifted of course. Clearing her mind, she put a plesant smile on her face as the airlock door retracted.

She recognized General Jack O'Neill, Colonel Samantha Carter and Doctor Daniel Jackson from the briefing papers Earthdome had forwarded to her, as soon as they stepped onto the red carpet. They were here to play a secondary role in the actual negotiations themselves, but no doubt their opinions would carry great weight with both the negotiation team and their superiors back home.

Behind them she counted another four men and one woman, dressed in conservative 21st century business suits and carrying a mixture of attaché cases and briefcases. Her opposite numbers, with all the skill, wit and instincts that came from a lifetime of living on a non-unified Earth coming out of the Cold War.

She set herself mentally as the group reached the foot of the ramp.

Game on…

As the delegation came to a halt, Captain Lochley stepped forward and snapped to attention shooting off a perfect salute, which O'Neill and Carter returned with equal finesse and respect.

"General O'Neill. Colonel Carter. Doctor Jackson. I'm Captain Elizabeth Lochley, the station commander and on behalf of my crew, welcome aboard". Turning slightly to her right to place the emphasis on the line of people next to her, she gestured and the four started walking.

"Commander David Corwin, my second in command. He'll be liaising directly with you, if there is anything you need, you only have to ask"

"Commander" O'Neill nodded, offering his hand to the junior officer who took it, then Carters and Daniels with a nod and smile.

"Your opposite number for the military briefings, General Lefcourt" the Captain said, pointing to an older balding man with a proud military bearing. The General extended his hand and O'Neill took it in a firm grip.

"President Sheridan spoke very highly of you General. Over the years I've come to consider his judgment impeccable" Lefcourt stated.

"Well you know, he likes nukes, I like nukes…it's a good place to start a friendship" O'Neill shrugged. Lefcourt grinned despite himself; the man had an air of leadership and honesty about him that said everything he needed to know about the man.

He could see why he had been hand picked for this mission.

"Ambassador Vanessa Bartlett of the Earth Alliance" Lochley continued, stepping up to the young women with shoulder length brown hair in a conservative business suit, who directed a practiced smile at O'Neill.

"I'm very glad to meet you General" Vanessa said with a friendly air and shaking his offered hand. "I'm honored President Hayes sent his finest people to usher in what, I hope, will be a new age of peace and prosperity between the long lost brothers and sisters of Humanity".

On the whole, she was rather proud of the elegant little greeting, just flowery enough to avoid going into a speech but long enough to be distinctive.

Jack blinked.

He hated diplomatic missions.

For him, the ideal mission had people that could fit into one of three categories; Friendlies, targets or window dressing.

"Yes…well I never miss a good dimensional jump!" Jack replied with an upbeat grin that looked felt somewhat forced to her, but the Ambassador chuckled politely anyway.

Jack swore he saw a flash of genuine amusement running through the eyes of Captain Lochley, who stepped forward again, leaving Daniel and Carter to exchange greetings with the General as Jack turned to introduce the ambassadors from the IOC to their counterparts.

000000000000000

"Stand by docking umbilical's, keep it slow and steady" Pendergast ordered, trying not to look uncomfortable at the idea of the massive structure all around his ship. Prometheus hadn't been designed to dock at space stations; Earth didn't HAVE a space station outside of the ISS. Nonetheless they had managed to mount some EA spec docking locks with a little ingenuity. All things being equal, they would be keeping the ship locked in place on the scaffolding.

Or rip off under shearing forces and completely ruin his ships paintwork…

"Adjusting for orbital drift, starboard thrusters point two five burst" the Helmsmen called out, his eyes not leaving the screen as he pulsed the thrusters carefully, sliding the last few meters into position on the Majors navigation display.

"Station keeping" Gant ordered

"Station keeping" he confirmed.

"That's perfect Prometheus" the EA dock master declared over the communications channel. We're locking you in now, standby"… and with a jolt more heard then felt thanks to the ships inertial dampeners, they were locked to the refit dock.

"Airlock hard seal, we are docked to the station and secure" Gant reported with a satisfied smile.

"All flight systems to standby" Pendergast ordered, standing up and taking a stretch as the omnipresent humming of the ships engines fell away to nothing. "Major, you have the bridge. I'll be heading over to the station. Get the refits underway ASAP; I want to go for a test drive by the end of the day"

"Understood" she acknowledged as the Colonel strode off the bridge and ducked into the elevator. A short trip later, he arrived at the starboard airlock hatch where a gaggle of technicians were poking at the controls on the airlock.

"The board shows green Colonel" the lead tech said, pointing to the small LCD display mounted on the wall. Pendergast wasn't exactly thrilled at the idea of walking across a half jury rigged umbilical into the station when he had perfectly functional Asgard beaming technology, but the orders were not to show that technology off any more then necessary.

Probably because the Earth Alliance would demand access to the technology and the Asgard would send Hermiod to negotiate…

"Well open it up and let's get cracking" Pendergast sighed, stepping into the airlock.

Despite his fears, the crossing into the stations habitation area proceeded smoothly, despite the jarring transition from Prometheus's artificial gravity to zero gravity, then back to simulated gravity in the habitation ring. A junior officer greeted him at the airlock, escorting him to the station office where the person behind the refit project waited, lounging around like he owned the place…which upon reflection, Pendergast decided he probably did.

"Mister Garibaldi, I have to admit I was surprised to hear that you were the crazy genius behind this project" Pendergast greeted B5's former head of security, accepting his outstretched hand in a firm grip. "I was under the impression you had a business to run".

The smartly dressed head of Edgar's Industries smiled and gestured towards a low table, on which steaming cups of what looked (and smelt) like fresh coffee were steaming. Never one to pass up a shot of caffeine, the master of the Prometheus grabbed and sipped, appreciating the smooth but strong bite.

"Well I put together a heck of a team to build Victory and Excalibur. They had the job of forcing Earthforce, Minbari and Vorlon tech to play nice together without exploding like something from an ACME catalogue…they're the best I've ever seen at making strange technology work together". Leaning forward and smiling slightly, Michael saluted the Colonel with his mug. "And your ship is, hands down, the strangest mix of technology I have ever seen".

Pendergast couldn't disagree on THAT score. Prometheus's had gone through three different reactor cores from three different cultures, two weapons refits, two Asgard refits and God only knows how many modifications on the fly. The fact that the ship was so damn effective was partly due to the skill of her crew, and partially an act of God.

Still, unlike the newer Daedalus class ships which had locked down specifications for ease of mass production, Prometheus had been designed to be flexible. Her primary systems were far more forgiving to upgrades and redesigns, making her the perfect candidate for testing new technology that would ultimately be directly designed into the Flight II Daedalus class before production resumed.

"When we're finished with your ship, she'll be twice as well defended, ten times as powerful and about a hundred times uglier then she used to be".

"That would be quite and achievement" Lionel noted dryly as Prometheus 'spun' into view. The massive 'bolted on' additions to her superstructure ran just about the entire length of the ships upper surface. He knew when it was finished heavy grey trinium armor would be layered over it making it look even more blotted. But for now the dull bronze colored additions looked clunky as hell. Most of the internal work to his ship had already been done back at Groom Lake, the final refit wasn't expected to take more then a day…

"…if everything went according to plan" he muttered mostly to himself, hoping for once for a mission where everything DID go as it was supposed to.

Fat chance with Jack O'Neill around of course.

"Well there's a chance of everything being smooth sailing I guess" Garibaldi smirked. "All we need is for your diplomats representing five different nations, the people from EarthGov and the ISA to see eye to eye, while we get completely experimental technology to properly interface with various alien technologies without destroying everything in a fifty klick radius around B5".

Pendergast raised an eyebrow as he turned back from the window.

"Are you always this depressingly paranoid about everything?"

The former security officer simply smiled and leaned back in his chair, taking a quick sip of coffee.

"You'd be amazed how often people ask me that…"

000000000000000

"…And so that leaves us with items seven, eight and nine on the agenda" Richard Woosley declared as he put aside the latest manila folder. He couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment. With greater ease then he had dared hope, five of the Great powers on Earth had just laid the groundwork for an alliance that would catapult Earth to the stars, solve dozens of worldwide problems from major environmental issues to some serious health problems and move Earth to major power status in their own Galaxy.

Not too bad for a days work.

"I would move we put off items eight and nine until the arrival of the ISA team tomorrow" Shen Xiaoy commented, shuffling her papers back into order as she scribbled some last notes on her pad, which was already overflowing with a mixture of Mandarin and English scrawl that made little sense to anyone but herself (probably deliberately so now that Woosley came to think of it).

"As they all involve the Interstellar Alliance on some level, little will be served by extending today's session to cover those topics, without their representation".

"I would have to concur with my colleague from China" Chapman nodded in agreement, glancing down at his watch and blinking as he focused on the time. "Good Lord is that the time already? I would suggest then that we call it a day and reconvene at Nine tomorrow, we do have dinner reservations at Seven…"

"If there are no objections Miss Bartlett?" Woosley asked, glancing to his left at Vanessa who was carefully organizing her own hardcopy papers back into her briefcase. He couldn't help but notice she had never had more then one out at a time, carefully replacing each set before retrieving the next.

Trying to make some point he wondered…or just anal retentive?

"None here Richard" Vanessa replied with a smile. She apparently enjoyed using his first name as if they were old friends getting together for a drink rather then professional diplomat's conducting state level negotiations. It irritated him slightly, but he was far too much of a pro to show it. He had worked around spooks at the NID long enough to know how to hide his feelings in negotiations.

He for one was just glad to be in an off world situation that didn't require firepower to solve. And speaking of firepower…

"General? No objections?"

Jack O'Neill who was sitting with his head resting in his hand (which in turn was being supported by his elbow on the table) raised his eyebrows then glanced around the room, taking in the activity he apparently had been oblivious to.

"Uh no…if you must stop for the night, you must stop for the night" he responded, curiously making it sound like half a plea and half a threat.

"In that case, we can call this session closed" Vanessa said formally. "We'll reconvene at nine tomorrow?"

A general murmur of agreement swept around the table.

"Then I'll see you all in a few hours" she smiled as the ground stood.

There was the usual five minutes of handshakes, photographs taken by the official recorder and so on, and then the group broke up. Jack retrieved his jacket from the back of his chair, stifling a yawn as he turned for the exit to find Woosley still waiting for him.

"I hope we didn't bore you too much General" he commented in that dry tone that just suggested he was about to get a lecture.

"Oh no it was fascinating" Jack replied in the same tone. "I mean the way each of the representatives found a way to say the exact same thing over and over again with that same smile on their face"...

Despite himself Woosley smiled as they turned out of the diplomatic conference rooms into the Green Sector corridors.

"It's called diplomacy General. Rank hath its privileges"

"Oh sure. Daniels off talking to Minbari , Centauri and that…uh-"

"Pak'ma'ra" Woosley supplied

-"Pak'ma'ra" Jack agreed without skipping a beat. "Carter is crawling over a fusion reactor the size of the SGC and I'm stuck listing to people talk about a treaty everyone has already agreed to-"

"This is the way diplomacy at this level works General" Woosley admonished him, "I'm surprised you of all people don't see the big picture in this".

"Well if you do, can I get the abridged version?" Jack pleaded as the lift arrived and they stepped in.

"Well it's relatively simple when you get right down to it. How hard do you think it's going to be to hide a hundred brand new orbital defense weapons in Geosynchronous orbit, huge additional allocations from Federal budgets already straining to hide 'black' money, massive introduction of technology from commercially viable fusion reactors to new medical advancements, new materials and computer technology, tens of thousands of military personnel being siphoned off into crewing a new space fleet…" Woolsey's voice trailed off, but Jack got the point.

"You're talking about disclosure" he observed, a tingle going down his spine at that word. Oh sure disclosure had been a possibility all through the SGC's existence. Starting with the death of the reporter Armand Zellick, whose death Jack was convinced had been orchestrated by the 'rogue' NID…part of the reason he found it hard to trust Woosley implicitly. He knew there had been another half dozen incidents where disclosure had been a near thing, most recently when the UK, France and China had picked up enough of the pieces to the puzzle.

But even Jack had to admit that when the Earth Alliance transferred several dozen of its older capital ships to Earth control, each requiring crew numbering in the hundreds to thousands…the jig was going to be up.

Woosley nodded slightly to Jacks question as the lift started moving.

"Yes and when it happens there will be hell to pay in Washington. Both Hayes and his predecessor got support for the Stargate program from key figures in BOTH parties, so at least the Washington circuit will be backing him on everything that happened. But we're still talking about a fundamental shift on a scale Earth has never seen before. More then anything, we'll need to sell this to the American people and the world for that matter. And to do that, we need people in Washington to stand by the President. People who have been out here, doing the kind of things you have done for the last eight years. People who can help him shape the future of this program as it expands. If you thought Kinsley was a thorn in the SGC, well as the saying goes General, you ain't seen nothing yet".

Jack blinked.

"Laying it on a bit thick aren't you?"

"Not at all" Richard disagreed, adjusting his glasses slightly. "A flag officer is as much politician and diplomat as a soldier". The former NID agent smiled slightly as the lift started to slow. "Do you really think General Hammond assigned you to this mission simply to bore you to death?"

With a chime, the lift door slid open and Woosley stepped out, leaving Jack staring at his back for a few seconds as his mind started to piece together everything.

Then he realized the doors were about to close on him and he hurried to catch up.

Reaching his room, Woosley ran his temporary identicard through the reader. Obediently, the door swung open with a whir of hydraulics and he turned to face Jack again.

"I'd start putting some thought into a successor for your position at the SGC. I have no doubt the Joint Chiefs and the President would give their full attention to anyone you would care to recommend for the job". Stepping inside, he turned to face Jack one last time. "Oh and I'd do it sooner rather then later; I doubt you'll be there in three months. I'll see you at dinner.

The door swung back leaving Jack alone in the passage. Fingering his own identicard (and feeling older then his years thanks to the revelation that his carrier had already been mapped out for him by his superiors, the nations of the IOA and the President of the United States), O'Neill stepped into his own quarters and tossed his jacket onto a convenient chair, before flopping gratefully onto his bed.

He ignored the aches in his back that had never been there ten years ago in the field.

"Lights off"

Settling on top of the bed as the lights dimmed, he decided to grab a quick nap before showering for dinner…

And would have if not for a whistling almost buzzing sound from inside his room that really didn't sound like it belonged there…

Instantly Jack was on the move as training beaten into him over twenty years of special operations came to the forefront, swinging out of bed into a crouch as his eyes scanned the dim room. He flicked the tiny strap on his left wrist, feeling the reassuring bump of a subspace emergency transponder; one touch of it would activate the entire delegations transponders and beam the entire diplomatic party to the Prometheus. He held off using it, scanning the half familiar room for anything that looked like a threat-

"Hello General!" a deep, booming and downright boisterous voice suddenly echoed from his left, his eyes automatically tracking and finding nothing for several seconds…then a blurry distortion appeared, solidifying into a tall regal looking…Minbari, in gold and red dress, staring intently at the General.

"You're not actually planning to activate that transponder are you?" the man asked in an amused tone, waving at where Jack's left hand gripped his wrist, before folding his own hands together across his body into his sleeves.

"Don't know. Considering it...but I haven't decided yet" he replied honestly, not at all put at ease by the disarming smile.

The Minbari laughed a short, sharp bark of amusement.

"I think I like you, General Jack O'Neill. I truly hope you don't activate it; if I may be so bold to guess that it activates your amazing transporter technology. Because it would cut short what could be such an interesting conversation". The Minbari's face became almost wistful for a few seconds. "And I'm afraid I don't get too many of those these days, let alone ones of such…importance".

Slowly, Jack lowered his hand from the transponder tag. Instincts that had saved his life countless times on and off Earth were telling him that he wasn't in any real danger...especially if this Minbari was what he thought it was. A suspicion confirmed when he stood, then poked a finger at the interloper…which passed through nothing but air, causing ripples to flow through the image.

"You're a hologram" Jack stated, receiving a half indignant look, one not reflected in the MInbari's eyes which showed amusement.

"I most certainly am not! I am flesh and blood as much are you are, a Minbari who has been given the honor and privilege of guarding great and terrible secrets far too dangerous to be found by those who would seek them…and my name, is Drall.

000000000

"Commander, I'm detecting a strange reading coming from Epsilon Three" a technician spoke up, startling the crew inside C&C. With the Alpha shift drawing to a close, docking activity on the station had reduced to a crawl, letting the staff in C&C get some minor but necessary work finished before the facility shut down for the night. Smaller secondary command posts were manned 24 hours a day across the station in the docking bays, security office and traffic control. But C&C itself only ran business hours, excepting when in crisis mode of course.

As "business hours" were now drawing to a close, so was the Alpha shift and the personnel were almost without exception looking forward to a relaxing evening in their quarters or down in the Zocalo.

David Corwin was not one of them.

He looked up from his station in irritation.

This was the last thing he needed right now. The Captain was off in an intelligence briefing with General Lefcourt, the semi formal dinner with the 'Earth' ambassadors was in two hours and he was in the middle of preparing for it. The last thing he needed was some concern about Epsilon Three. The planet constantly put out strange minor energy fluctuations the command staff wrote off as unimportant and harmless.

But four years under Commander Ivanova and Captain Sheridan had taught him the importance of checking out anything that happened on that planet, so he stepped behind the junior officer's station to glance at her screen…and froze. A beam of energy with a very specific wavelength was focused right on B5. Glancing at the analysis of the energy, he recognized it instantly and hit his link.

"Station Three to Captain Lochley…"

0000000000

"So…who are you?"

"Ah. A loaded question. One that defined part of the greatest conflict this Galaxy has ever seen. Curious that you should ask it, under these circumstances"…

Jack blinked.

"Uh…actually I just wanted to know who you are?"

Drall chuckled at himself.

"Please forgive me General. I don't talk to people that often and I can get a little, how shall we say, carried away? I don't suppose the most excellent Asgard sensors on your ship have been directed at the planet we are orbiting?"

Jack's eyes narrowed. Hologram or no, he knew far too much about the advanced technology from the Asgard that was built into Prometheus, information that had been shared with only a few very select people inside the Interstellar Alliance and Earth Alliance.

"Not as far as I know…I mean…its…brown" Jack replied, summing up just about everything he knew about the dusty ball known as Epsilon Three.

"True enough General if you only look at the skin. Under this deceptive crust lies a wondrous machine, a Great Machine if you will; a part of the Army of Light that won our freedom from the Vorlons and Shadows". Drall's eyes grew distant as he spoke, as if reflecting on those terrible years,

"I pledged the technology and resources of this world to defend this station against the Darkness. I had assumed, with the Shadows vanquished, that guarantee would no longer be necessary".

Drall's lip twitched.

"My assumptions were…wrong".

Deep in hyperspace, close to a dozen warships flanked by arrays of small cruisers and raiders moved with confidence, a huge shadow in the red mists accompanied by yet more escorts following close behind.

The entire group closed steadily on the Epsilon Eridani system.

"They are the servants who seek to become the masters. The Drakh, those you fought at Earth half a year ago have learned of the alliance you seek to forge here today, and they will stop it…if you do not stop them".

"How much time do we have?" Jack asked, grabbing for his jacket on the chair and not stopping to ask such silly questions as 'how do I know you're telling the truth'. That would shortly attend to itself. If the Drakh were coming, they had to be ready. If they weren't and this was all some practical joke, well, if it got him out of that damn dinner…

"I would estimate perhaps twenty of your minutes" Drall stated.

"Great" Jack muttered, swinging his jacket on in haste and grabbing his standard issue SG team radio from his pocket…but getting nothing but silence from it. Jack stared at it in confusion.

"My presence here interferers with radio waves, excuse me" Drall apologized then vanished.

"Hey wait a minute!" Jack demanded the empty room.

Drall reappeared.

"Can't you do anything to help with the defense?"

Drall's perpetually merry face fell as he sighed in frustration.

"I'm truly sorry General, I am afraid Epsilon Three's rotation has taken my primary defensive weapons out of alignment with the station. The Drakh have planed their attack well". His face suddenly lit up again as a new thought crossed his mind. "Oh and please tell Doctor Jackson he is more then welcome to come down and have a chat with me, assuming we all survive the next hour. He and I have much to talk about. And you General have nineteen minutes left".

Drall faded again and this time his radio hissed as its transmitter came back online. Simultaneously, the display built into the bulkhead flickered then flashed as a voice broke through static from its speaker.

"G---en------eill---ear this? --neral O'Neill please respond?"

Jack stepped up to the display as it activated, the static cleared to show a rather concerned looking Captain Lochley.

"There you are; General, we weren't able to reach you. We detected a strange energy reading from the planet and…well…this may sound a little strange, but-"

"-did a Minbari just appear in my quarters named Drall?" Jack finished.

"Actually, yes" she said with a smile. Behind her, O'Neill saw General Lefcourt in the frame and guessed he was in her office. "May I ask what he wanted?"

"Well he wants to talk to Daniel, apparently they have a lot to talk about. Oh and he decided to let us know there is a Drakh assault fleet about oh…" Jack paused to check his watch "eighteen and a half minutes away from launching an all out attack".

Lochley's face paled and Lefcourt stepped up level with her.

"Coming here General?" he asked with a tight look, clearly not pleased with this news.

"Yeah, apparently they are rather put out at the idea of Earth and…Earth allying against them".

"I'm not that surprised" Lefcourt responded with a raised eyebrow. "Anything else?"

"Just that the planets weapons are not going to be of much help, apparently they don't have a line of sight right now…or something".

"Terrific" Lefcourt muttered. "Alright, you better get back to the Prometheus General. Do you want to take the Ambassadors with you?"

Jack shook his head.

"They'll be safer here; we can go all out to protect the station if they're not on board. I'll place Prometheus and her fighters at your disposal for the duration of the engagement".

"My thanks General, once again we are in your debt".

"It's our asses too this time" Jack pointed out. "Besides, let's not start the victory dance until the fat lady sings".

Lefcourts eyes shifted left and right and Jack made a note to explain that particular saying to him if they lived through the next hour.

"Uh quite. Lefcourt out".

The screen switched to a BabCom logo, then fell dark. Retrieving his radio, Jack flicked to the preset for the Prometheus and squeezed the transmitter.

"Prometheus this is Sierra Gulf Charlie Alpha, come in".

There was a pause of a few seconds, then-

"Major Gant here, reading you five by General."

"Tell me you're ready to get underway in less then ten minutes".

There was a pause on the other end.

"Upgrades are complete and powered, but not tested…uhh, we're not scheduled to leave space dock until oh six hundred tomorrow morning Sir but-"

"Yes or no Major" he demanded as he turned and strode for his door.

There was another short pause.

"Everything except the main cannon is one hundred percent, but we haven't tested all of it".

"You'll be testing it now. Sound General quarters and get into space in the next ten minutes. Then get ready to beam myself, Daniel and Carter to the bridge".

"Acknowledged" Gant replied before cutting the channel.

Orders had been given. Questions could wait.

Ignoring the ambassadorial quarters on his right, Jack walked to the left and pounded on both doors next to his own room. Unsurprisingly, only one door opened, both Sam and Daniel were inside the Doctors quarters discussing the days events.

"Hey Jack. How'd the negotiations go?" Jackson asked with a slight smirk. He probably felt this entire thing was rich retribution for Jack constantly blocking his attempts to get to Atlantis.

Jack made a mental note to forestall any new application to transfer to the Atlantis base.

"Oh you know. Can't wait for tomorrow. But right now we've sort of got a Drakh problem".

"Drakh Sir?" Carter questioned, stepping up next to Daniel.

"Yeah there is a whole damn fleet approaching. I told Lochley a minute ago-"

Right on que, sirens started to scream and lights flash throughout the station.

"We've got to get back to the Prometheus" Jack finished, raising the radio to his lips with a quick look around. "Gant, beam us up". Smiling, he turned to Sam and Daniel. "I've always wanted-"

The trio vanished in a flash of light-

-and reappeared on the bridge of the Prometheus.

"-to say that" he finished.

"General, Colonel, Doctor" Pendergast greeted the three ex members of SG1 as they materialized on his bridge. "May I presume Sir, to ask what the hell is going on?"

"We've got incoming in about-" Jack quickly checked his watch "-sixteen minutes and they're none too happy about this treaty" Jack replied.

"Drakh?" Pendergast guessed.

O'Neill nodded.

Lionel Pendergast hissed out a breath through his teeth as he sat down in his command chair. "Major, status?"

"Docking umbilicals are releasing now, sublight drives are spinning up and will be hot in sixty seconds". Gant tapped several buttons, switching from ship utilities to the X303's weapons systems. "Our interceptors and pulse cannons are operational. Railguns and missile batteries are in the green. Four Mark Eights in the tubes, the rest of the magazines are loaded with Mark Fives".

"Only four Nukes?" Jack asked in surprise. Pendergast winced.

"Each of the Snakes flight leaders carry a full load of Mark Sevens. But as for us, well, Colonel Caldwell loaded up almost Area-51's entire stockpile before he left. Given the difficulty of re-supply from Atlantis…"

"Point" Jack frowned, remembering in irritation that it had seemed such a good idea at the time. "Carry on Major".

"Shields are operational" Gant continued. "Main cannon installation is complete and diagnostics are green, but we haven't tested it yet.

"Keep the main cannon powered down for now. I'd rather not spend that much energy on something that might backfire into us. Fighter status?"

"Snake Eater and Goa'uld Busters are standing to…but Captain Cleary and Lieutenant Boyd…"

"Oh damn, I forgot about them".

"What?" Jack demanded as with a deep thud, the ships sublight engines came online.

"Cleary and his Rio got into something of a drinking contest with a bunch of Narn's on the station" Pendergast put it delicately.

"Did they win?" Jack demanded, not concerned about their violation of standing orders about getting wasted in the Zocalo.

"Floored them" Pendergast confirmed with a hint of a smile. "But they're laid up in medlab on B5 drunk as lords, so we're down two pilots…and we don't have any spares".

"You do now" O'Neill commented.

Pendergast raised an eyebrow slightly at the idea of a Brigadier General flying around in an F-302 blasting enemy ships. And not just any Brigadier, but Jack O'Neill and Samantha Carter. If those two died on his watch-

"With all due respect sir, the last time a General flew a combat mission for the Air Force was sometime in World War Two, General Hammond will have my birds for breakfast if you get shot down out there-"

"We don't have much of a choice Colonel" Jack pointed out. Although he knew that despite their rank difference, Pendergast as the Prometheus's commander had final say on such matters in a combat situation. He watched as the officer mulled over the possibilities and, as he had predicted, having one more fighter out there trumped any other concerns given the expected odds.

"Okay, if you want to replace Boyd, I'll authorize that. But the rest of the command structure for the wing-"

"-will stay exactly as it is" Jack agreed.

Pendergast nodded and prayed he wasn't making a mistake.

"His 302 is in launching bay one. Good hunting".

With a nod and a salute from Carter which the Colonel dutifully returned, the two turned and sprinted from the bridge.

Exchanging a look with Doctor Jackson, Pendergast returned to his chair and cleared his mind for the battle ahead.

"Sublight engines are online" Major Gant announced as she completed the abbreviated checklist for her hurried power up sequence.

"Ahead slow until we clear the scaffold then bring engines to standard thrust. Communications, signal the Lexington we are standing by for orders.