Chapter 3

As Captain Picard and Lieutenant Yar headed into the starboard turbolift, Captain Styles touched a control on the arm of his chair, activating the intercom. "Bridge to Transporter Room One," he said. "Captain Picard and Lieutenant Yar are ready to return to their ship.

"Understood," The transporter operator reported. "The Enterprise medical team has beamed aboard."

Very well. Bridge out." Styles said as he turned to face his executive officer at the communications station. "Commander," he said. "Sound general quarters. All hands, battle stations."

"Aye, Sir." Garret said activating the ship-wide intercom. "General quarters. All hands, battle stations. This is not a drill, I repeat: This is not a drill." Her voice boomed across the ship. Foster at the tactical station, entered a few commands, sounding general quarters, switching lights to red.

"Challenger. This is Enterprise. Captain Picard is safely aboard."

O-O-O

In the port torpedo bay, at the base of the 'neck', Lieutenant Thomas Reed supervised the preparations of the torpedo bay, while beside him, his assistant, Ensign Eugene Mayweather actually supervised the loading of the weapons.

Before him, several enlisted personnel were lifting away the safety grates, which normally covered the torpedo track, allowing torpedoes to actually be rolled out into the port launcher. In adjacent starboard bay, he knew that his counterpart, Lieutenant James Horner was doing the same thing.

As the last grates were removed, Mayweather activated the controls that would lower the torpedoes from the deck above into the track. He would have to repeat this seven times, before the launcher had a full load. These mark-VI torpedoes, which Enterprise had loaded out Challenger with, were supposed to have greater range and accuracy. His study of the actual warheads, had suggested that their yield was no higher than those of the mark IV's.

Several seconds later, the first torpedoes, they looked like elongated elliptical cylinders just over two metres long, started going down the track. In another twenty seconds, the process would be complete.

A quarter minute later, he was reporting a 'ready to fire' status to the bridge. But, he was annoyed to find out that Horner's team had beaten his by three seconds. Damn, he thought. Have to do better.

O-O-O

"All right people," Kyle said above the thrum of the warp care, clambering into his white engineering suit. "Let's this core up to full power. Time to see if these modifications work. We'll give these ruddy Klingons a fight they won't forget."

Hitting the intercom, he called the bridge. "Engineering to Bridge," he said. "Captain. I'm bringing the weapons and defence upgrades online. Full power at your discretion."

"Acknowledged, Engineer." Styles replied.

O-O-O

"Tactical," Styles ordered. "Deploy phaser cannons, shields up full."

"Aye, Sir." Foster said. "Raising shields…shields up. Phasers deployed."

At the science station, an alarm sounded. "Klingon Bird of Prey de-cloaking," Samno reported as the ship rocked to starboard. A torpedo strike. "Bearing zero-four-two mark zero-zero-five. Range: Two hundred thousand kilometres."

"Shields holding!" Foster called out. "Locking phasers.

"Fire phasers at will. Hold fire on torpedoes." Styles ordered as the ship rocked again. "Navigation, come to heading relative zero-four-two mark zero-zero-three. Two-thirds impulse.

"Aye, Sir." Ferrer said. "Coming to zero-four-two mark zero-zero-three."

"Increasing to two-thirds impulse." Crewman Burke reported at the helm.

On the screen, the Bird of Prey started to turn away, under the lashing of the phasers. He could clearly see the Klingon's shields flashing green under the weapons strikes.

"Stay on their tail, Lieutenant." Styles commanded. "Increase to full impulse."

"Full impulse, aye." Burke said.

"Tactical overlay on main screen."

The image on the screen changed slightly, The Bird of Prey now had a red box around it, with range data blue figures at the bottom right of the screen. On the left, were various was information on target shield and hull strength. The Klingon vessel was now five thousand kilometres and it's rear shields were reading at ninety-eight percent.

Ready torpedoes," Styles commanded. "I want you to hit them with a full barrage, port and starboard, the moment you have a lock. I want that ship out of my sky. Target their primary reactor." A full barrage, Styles knew, was overkill. A Bird of Prey was actually a pretty weak vessel when it came to it's defences. Instead, it depended mostly on speed and manoeuvrability to survive battle.

Foster didn't answer. But, Styles saw the targeting cross hairs appear on the screen and track the hostile ship in attempt to lock on. "Damn," Foster muttered. "This guy's good." The Bird of Prey had started jinking around in random patterns. Clearly trying to evade a lock on.

At that moment, the Enterprise suddenly flew into the picture firing away with her phasers. The sudden distraction the Enterprise provided, was all Foster needed. He locked on and fired. Unleashing a barrage of torpedoes. The first torpedo slammed into the Klingon's shields causing them to flare then go dark, the second and third impacted directly against the hull, slamming into the port wing, making the craft spin and rock violently. Then the final torpedoes impacted, rupturing the main hull, and actually detonating inside the vessel. It blew up in a spectacular explosion. It was all over in seven seconds, the bridge erupting in cheers as the ship flew on through the rapidly dying explosion. After all, there was no air to feed it.

O-O-O

"One Klingon vessel destroyed," Data reported from Ops. The bridge, like Challenger's starts to erupt in cheers. But, Data quickly mutes them, reporting urgently. "Sensors detect eight Birds of Prey de-cloaking. Astern, Captain. Range: three hundred thousand, closing."

"Fire phasers," Picard ordered. "On screen."

The image on the screen, quickly changed from showing the Challenger flying through the dying explosion, debris sparking against it's shields to the Enterprise's rear view. "My God!" Riker muttered. They were outgunned.

"Firing phasers." Yar responded. A beat later, she announced. "Incoming! I count three torpedoes."

Seconds later, the torpedoes impacted. The ship shuddered, sparks raining from the ceiling. "Shields holding at ninety percent. Minor damage to secondary hull. Diverting auxiliary power to aft shields."

"Sir," Crusher said. "Three birds are breaking off to go after the Challenger."

"On screen." Picard ordered. The image went back to the previous view.

"Captain," Riker said. His words, were punctuated, by the shuddering of the ship, as it came under continual disrupter fire. "We can't handle this many ships without support. We must withdraw and head back to Starbase 105."

Not answering Riker, Picard was intently studying the main screen. He could see the Challenger coming under fire. She began to move off, increase her range from the Enterprise. Giving herself room to manoeuvre. What's she up too?, Picard thought rubbing his chin. A habit he'd picked up from Riker. "Ensign," Picard asked as a thought occurred to him. "What's the range to Challenger?" Judging by the look on his flight controller's face as he turned to answer, Crusher did as well. "Range: Two million, two hundred and twenty-five thousand kilometres."

"Incoming hail from Challenger." Yar said.

"On screen," Picard said. Then adding as the ship shook violently again raining more sparks, "Maintain phaser fire."

The main screen changed to show a view of the Challenger's bridge. The expression Styles face was deadly serious. "Report, Captain."

"One hostile destroyed. Our shields are holding at seventy percent. Tell your engineers that their upgrades are working wonders over here."

"I'll be sure to tell them." Picard remarked. He was waiting for the card to be dealt. Styles wasn't saying much that he couldn't surmise from sensors. "Anything else?"

"Yes actually," Styles smirked viciously. "Have you ever played 'Chicken' on your right side?"

Riker and Crusher groaned in unison. That was exactly what they feared.

"Mr Crusher," Picard said looking straight at the screen as though looking down a gun sight. In a way he was. "New heading. Zero-zero-zero mark zero-zero-zero. Full impulse."

"Course laid in. Engaging…"

As Crusher spoke, everything seemed to dim. For a moment all light bent and doubled back on itself. It was as though the universe, was closing it's eyes to sneeze. Picard felt like he was falling down a very long hole and even though he could barely make his crew, he somehow knew that they were feeling the same thing. Then everything became bright again as the light distorted, and wavered, before going back to normal.

"…impulse engines." Crusher finished.

On the screen, the image of the Challenger grew large as the starships closed in on one another at half the speed of light. Only seconds past, though to Ensign Crusher who was hunched over his console in concentration, it seemed like an eternity. He found that he was noting the most inconsequential of things. Things like the sun being blue, instead of yellow. Things like seeing a planetary system in the distance, where there shouldn't be any. Things like the asteroid field where the anomaly had been. Things like the Enterprise continually shuddering from disrupter fire. The Challenger was very close now indeed. It was starting to block out the astronomical bodies that he had been observing so closely. He read the range: five hundred and eighteen thousand kilometres. To everyone else he informed. "Seven seconds to collision…"

"Captain," Riker said. "We need to turn."

"Hold your course…" Picard said. "But standby to execute emergency turn."

"Five seconds…" Crusher said. "Four…three…two…"

"Hard to starboard," Picard commanded sharply, full banking turn."

Crusher, madly entered the commands. The Enterprise and Challenger passed each others keel, with barely twenty metres clearance. Collision alarms sounding on both bridges.

"Reverse angle on screen." Yar said for the Captains benefit.

It showed a brilliant sight. The Challenger coming around to meet the Enterprise in the background with multiple explosions in the foreground, as the Klingon ships collided with one another. They had been that focused on their quarries that they had neglected to notice the collision courses the two great starships were on. In the end, only one Klingon remained and that Bird of Prey was despatched with a volley of torpedoes from both starships.

O-O-O

"The Babylon Project was out last best hope for peace. It failed. But, in the year of the Shadow War, it became something else. Our last best hope…for victory. The year is 2260. The place...Babylon 5" Commander Susan Ivanova, Executive Officer of Babylon 5.

O-O-O

"Well done, Captain." Picard said. He was standing in the centre of the bridge, looking at the main screen at Styles. Styles himself, was standing in front of and to the side of his bridge's flight control console. "That was quite the manoeuvre. What do you call it?"

"The McCawley-Walker Manoeuvre," Styles said proudly, looking at his helmsman. "My helmsman here is a bit of a history buff. A few days ago, it had been film night over here. He was showing this film called Pearl Harbor," Picard knew what he was talking about. The attack on the famous harbour was required reading at the academy. It was a perfect example of what could happen when one ignored the facts. "In it, the tactic was thought up by two pilots called McCawley and Walker."

"Hence, the name." Picard stated.

"Exactly," Styles paused. It was clear, that he had been trying to think of something. "I was wondering," the Challenger captain went on. "Did your crew notice anything strange during the engagement?"

Picard, realised, that he had. "Yes," Picard said. "For a moment during the McCawley-Walker Manoeuvre, I felt something. As though-" Picard paused. "I don't know. Everything went dark for a moment and I felt as though I was falling."

"Sounds similar to reports," Styles told Picard. "I've been getting from across my ship. I don't want to alarm you Captain Picard. But, only one other crew has experienced something like this."

"Let me guess," Picard said. "Captain Kirk and the command crew of the USS Enterprise. You don't think that we've fallen into that universe, do you?"

"Unknown at this time." Styles replied. Behind him, Picard could see various personnel giving each other worried glances. Taking a quick look behind himself, Picard saw his own crew giving one another similar glances. Coming to stand next to him, Riker made a suggestion.

"Sir, I recommend that we launch a class-8 probe towards Earth." Riker said. "We fit it with a sensor screen and program it to scan for communications or anything that is out of the ordinary."

Picard nodded. "Make it so." Turning back to Styles, he asked. "In the mean time, would you mind coming over. I think we have a lot to discuss."

"Actually," Styles said. "I was thinking of inviting you over here. So far you've been most generous in offering us your hospitality. I would like to return the favour."

"Of course," Picard said smiling. We'll beam over in twenty minutes. Enterprise out."

O-O-O

"No, no, no," Londo Mollari exclaimed as he read Vir Cotto's report on the Minbari. "This report is totally inappropriate." Londo smirked at the thought of what Vir's expression would be when he looked at him. "You have to do it again." In the quarters of Londo Mollari, Centauri Republic Ambassador to the Earth Alliance Station Babylon 5, an argument was brewing.

"But, Londo," Vir said pleading. "Why? I've spent weeks working on the report. I didn't even sleep on the flight back from Minbar. Reading and re-reading the report. It's absolutely accurate."

When Londo looked up at Vir, his expression was just what he expected. Shocked. "Yes, Vir," Londo replied. "I'm sure it is, and that is the problem." He made a show of picking up a writing instrument, and going over it. Vir panicking as Londo scored out line after line as he read them aloud. "Here, you say 'The Minbari have carefully preserved their cities.'"

"That's right, absolutely."

"No," Londo explained in his kind tone. "Instead, you should say: 'Their cities are very old, indicating a decaying culture.'"

"What?" Vir exclaimed.

"And here: 'The Minbari put great emphasis on art, literature and music.' Yes. Well, say instead: 'They are a decedent race. Interested only in the pursuit of dubious pleasures.' The 'dubious' part is very important." Londo explained. "It doesn't mean anything. But, it scares people every time. Alright?"

"Londo," Vir said getting angry. "Every time I make a report, you do this to me."

"Yes, Vir," Londo smiled again, trying to be reassuring. "I'm trying to help you. A report that will be circulated at the Royal Court, needs to be worded very carefully. To make sure, that they appear less civilised than we are. It will make the Emperor happy…"

"I thought," Vir said. "The purpose of these reports, was to provide accurate intelligence."

"Vir, Intelligence has nothing to do with politics." Londo informed him. "Here: 'They are tolerant of differences among other cultures.' Instead say: 'They have no well-defined sense of morality.' They'll love that."

"Londo," Vir shouted. "I've been working for a day and half on this report." Londo tried to look surprised at this outburst. He wasn't really. He knew he'd had this coming. "You want to make notes! Fine. Make notes! But, you have had me locked up in here in your quarters ever since I got back. I'm going to get some sleep. When I come back, we'll work it out then."

Vir started to head out. But, he paused as an incoming call was announced. "Ambassador Mollari. Incoming call from Centauri Prime."

"Put it through," Londo said. "I've been waiting all day for this call."

"'I've been waiting all day for this call.'" Vir muttered turning round.

On the screen on the wall, the StellarCom logo vanished. Being replaced with the visage of an important Centauri. His peacock styled hair only slightly more elaborate than the ambassadors. Thus indicating his higher position in the royal court. Londo was positively ecstatic to be receiving this call. "Ambassador Mollari. I have been instructed to tell you that Lady Morella has agreed to your request and will be arriving shortly." Londo turned to face Vir, giving him a big grin almost cheeringly. "She and her entourage will be willing to stop by on route from a good will visit to Brakesh 9."

"Excellent! Just excellent." Londo replied at the screen. "Thank you Lord Trego."

Realising who was coming to Babylon 5, Vir Cotto started to look nervous. He would have to make arrangements, ensuring that she and her entourage would have accommodation during her stay. Now I'll never get any sleep. Vir thought. Out loud, he said. "Lady Morella. The Emperor Turhan's third wife is coming here?"

"Yes," Londo confirmed. "A most important visit. In more ways than you can imagine."

"But," Vir asked questioningly. "How did you --?"

"I told her," Londo said almost pompously. "I wished to give her a tour of Babylon 5 to show her how our new treaty with Earth, will enhance the cause of all Centauri." He paused to let that sink through what he thought was Vir's very thick skull. "Things are going very well. Why not take advantage of it?"

As Londo started to head towards the door, he issued the instructions, that Vir had been dreading. "Now hurry," Londo said. "We must prepare for her visit. From now on things must go smoothly."

Londo stopped dead in his tracks, as he stepped through the door of his quarters. The corridor was a hive of activity as people of all races seemed to be rushing around. It looked to him as though they would rather be anywhere but here. "Great Maker," he muttered. "Now what?"

Quickly, he stepped out into the corridor, intercepting the closest passer-by. A Minbari. "You," he asked. "What's going on?"

"Haven't you heard," the male Minbari said. "The Earth Alliance has just declared martial law."

Oh, no. Londo thought.

TBC