Dr Franklin arrived at Captain Sheridan's quarter as ordered but was surprised to find no one answering the door. He tried raising the captain on his communicator and that failed too. Puzzled, he called Ivanonva to see if she knew where the Captain was? She had no idea either. "He must be in his quarters. He hasn't left the station yet."
"Left the station? Where was he going?"
"He wouldn't say. All he said was that he was taking the shuttle somewhere and that he wasn't feeling well."
Dr Franklin had a bad feeling. "Commander, I'm going to enter his quarter. He may need medical assistance."
"Affirmative Doc."
With that, Dr Franklin overrode the door lock with his security code and entered the room. Everything looked normal until he made it to the Captain's room where he found Sheridan sprawled on his bed soaked in his own sweat. "Dr Franklin to the sickbay. I have a medical emergency in the captain's quarter. I need a stretcher team ASAP."
Payne's fleet had finally arrived at the Vree colony and offloaded the evacuees much to the relief of the crew who had just about had enough of it. Even Payne was feeling good, his other problems not withstanding. Finally he was going to get a good nights sleep. He had no sooner lain down in bed when he was distracted by the presence of a stranger in his room. He bolted out of bed and reached for his communicator but the stranger stopped him.
"That wont be necessary Captain," the stranger began. "I mean you no harm."
"Who are you? What are you doing in my room?"
"Who I am is not important Captain. Besides, I am not really here. This is just a holographic representation of myself."
"Then what do you want?"
"Actually, I am here to ask you for a favor. You see, when you and your ships came into this universe, you started a chain of events that broke the circle."
"Circle? What circle?"
"That is irrelevant, what matters now is that the circle has been broken. You have started a chain of events that will bring much death and misery to this universe if it is not fixed. That's why I need your help."
"How come you aren't fixing it yourself? You must possess the ability to do so."
"Maybe, but the time is not right. I cannot reveal my presence until then."
"And when is that?"
"That's not important either. What is important right now is that you have to protect Babylon 5. President Clark has sent a fleet of fifty ships to retake it and without your help it can't be done."
"Why me?"
"You are the only ones I can count to do the job right."
"What if I don't want to help?"
"I can't force you into this but remember, this will come to bite you in the back if we don't fix it."
"Alright, how do I know you are telling us the truth?" he countered.
"You don't. You will have to take my word for it."
"That's it? What makes you think I will put my ships at risk?"
"I will have to trust you to do the right thing."
There was silence as Payne thought it over. "When is this fleet arriving at Babylon 5?" he finally asked.
"Just over two day."
"I can't make it there on time even if I wanted to. Even at flank speed, it will take more than two days to make it to Babylon 5."
"Leave that to me," with that the figure wavered and vanished leaving Payne alone with his thoughts.
The retreat from the Narn home world had put a damper on morale in the combined Klingon and Narn fleet. Everyone went about their duties silently, repairing damages sustained during battle. The Narn's were especially hard hit. They had just watched the subjugation of their planet and had not been able to stop it. Something had to be done to boost their combined ego. There was nothing more devastating to a ship than a crew who believed they were already beaten. Captain G'Toll knew this and he had a plan.
Taman materialized in a dimly lit corridor somewhere on the Centauri ship. He swiftly drew his knife and scanned the area around him. Spotting a dark alcove so he quickly strode towards it. Once there, he listened intensely. It was all clear. With feline grace the burly Klingon quickly made his way down the narrow corridor until he came to a junction where it branched to either side. He stopped to listen once more. Far down the left corridor, he could hear approaching footsteps. He pressed his body tightly against the bulkhead as he counted the number of distinctive footsteps, just a pair. He was quite happy with it as dealing with more than one opponent at a time could make a ruckus. His mission depended on stealth more than anything else. Like most other Klingons assigned to this mission, he hadn't been happy with his orders at first, preferring to meet his enemy face to face. But the Narn Captain had made a convincing argument and in the end they had relented. This mission would depend on cunning and stealth as much as bravery and courage but the results would be the same. He held his breath as the unwary Centauri got closer and closer and finally walked right past him. At that moment Taman pounced. His left hand wrapped around the unfortunate Centauri's head and mouth holding it in a vice-like grip while he slit the victim's throat with his daqtagh. The unfortunate bastard thrashed out violently and almost slipped out of his grip. Taman quietly cursed himself for being careless and gripped his victim tighter util it went completely limp. Only then did he gently drop it back to the ground and wiped off his bloodied daqtagh. Blood continued to pour out of the severed throat and pooled around the lifeless body but Taman was already gone.
Silently, he made his way up the corridor till he noticed a door that was slightly ajar. Someone was being careless and would pay dearly for it with their life. Gingerly, he pushed the door and it opened with a slight creak. He waited for a moment to make sure he had not disturbed the occupants of the room before he stepped into it. The room was dark, much darker than the corridor he had just stepped in from but his eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness. Thousands of years of evolution as top predators had given the Klingons excellent night vision, much like a cat in fact. In the darkness, he could make out a structure that resembled double-decker bunks and they were both occupied. A wicked smile formed on his face as he approached the lower bunk. His victim was sleeping soundly completely unaware of the danger silently enveloping him. Taman deftly put his left hand over the Centauri's mouth and pinned down the body with his own mass as he slit the throat in one swift motion. Blood gushed out of the severed arteries with much force and his victim thrashed out but this time it was under control and did not make a ruckus except for the gurgling noise as blood entered the severed trachea. After what seemed like an eternity, the body went limp and Taman stood up taking care not to step into the pool of blood that was slowly spreading across the room. Without further ado, he stepped out of the room and made his way back to the dark alcove. He gently tapped his communicator and whispered, "Mission accomplished. One to beam back up."
This same scenario played out on different levels of the station as more than a dozen special-op teams conducted their ghastly business. The plan had succeeded without a single hitch.