Jack and his team watched in dismay as the fighters burned another strip from the hull of the cargo carrier, before hurtling past, mere feet from where they hung in space. This pass, however, the carrier's single laser found its mark on one of the smaller ships, destroying one of the wing-mounted engines, sending the fighter spinning off into space, spewing sparks.

"I think we're too small to be a target for the fighters," said Daniel, hopefully. "I don't know if they can see us at all, they're flying so fast."

"Great," said Jack, sourly. "That'll be a huge comfort when one of them flies right through us!"

Or if the ship hanging above us blows up in our faces, he added to himself, but he knew better than to voice those thoughts.

A man's voice burst into their radio receivers. "Ivanova, I've despatched Alpha Wing. They're approaching your position at maximum burn."

"Thank you, Commander," yelled back Ivanova. "Tell them to make it quick!"

Another voice cut in, evidently one of the pilots of Alpha Wing. "Don't worry, Lieutenant Commander," he teased. "We'll save you from the big, bad pirates."

"Yeah, Dillon?" replied Ivanova, icily. "And who's gonna save you from me after that remark?"

The pilot laughed. "Well," he said, "that's life in Alpha Wing – we're used to danger."

The five remaining enemy fighters had by this time circled around for another attack run. Flying in arrow formation, they concentrated their fire on one section of the armour. A huge strip of blackened metal twisted off and broke free. Even from their position below the carrier, SG-1 could see that the huge ship was venting atmosphere as fragments of debris were blown from the hull.

"We've got a breach!" shouted Ivanova. "Sealing off main cargo bay from forward compartments."

By now, the wide cross-shapes of the Alpha Wing fighters were visible, their engines burning furiously.

"Okay, pirates," said Dillon, his voice stern, "it's time to make you one with the star stuff. Alpha Wing – attack pattern zero-three; follow my lead."

"Take your time," said Ivanova, sarcastically. "I'm telling you, if I get out of this, you're going on double scramble drills for a week."

"Come on, Lieutenant Commander," said Dillon, with a laugh. "Give us some incentive here!"

As one ship, the Alpha Wing fighters opened fire on the Raiders. Two of the pirate fighters disappeared in a ball of fire that quickly dissipated into the vacuum of space. Alpha Wing altered course to pursue the three remaining ships.

The lead Raider's course dipped suddenly, in an effort to shake off his pursuer. The Alpha Wing pilot, taken by surprise, sped on overhead.

"He's going too fast," Jack couldn't help muttering. "He'll never turn in time."

However, with a kick of its starboard engines, the little fighter spun sharply through 180 degrees, bringing it in line with the Raider ship's escape path, and opened fire, reducing the enemy fighter to a fine cloud of smouldering debris.

The two remaining enemy fighters made a break for their carrier, which was itself pulling away from the battle.

"Let them go," ordered Dillon. "Secure the area around the cargo carrier while it picks up its… passengers."

Ivanova's voice came back over the radio, managing to sound only slightly shaken by her near-death experience. "I'm bringing the ship down to meet you now," she told the Stargate team. "I've got a big hold full of vacuum back there now, so you'll need to keep those suits on until we get back to the station."

The open hold engulfed the team as the cargo carrier settled down over them, the huge doors sliding shut under their feet.

"There are railings along the wall," continued Ivanova. "As you can tell, it's zero-G back there so let me know when you've all got a good grip."

Jack and his team dragged themselves clumsily through the hold, fighting the lack of gravity, until they reached the railing. Just then, Jack caught sight of the lengthy gash carved through the roof of the hold, open to the stars. The attack had been a close-run thing.

"Uh…" he began, not taking his eyes off the damage, "we're in."

Daniel looked up to see what Jack was looking at. "Oh," he said. "That doesn't look good. Perhaps that's why we've been brought here – to help deal with this problem?"

"Nah, I don't think so," replied Jack after some thought. "I mean, we could probably fly those fighters if we had to, but it looked to me like their own guys had everything under control."

They heard Dillon laugh over the radio. "Well, thank you kindly, sir. We do our best."

"Are you aware that everyone can hear those radio links you're using?" put in Ivanova.

"Uh, we are now," replied Jack. "I think we'll just sit quiet until we get these suits off."

"I hear that," replied Ivanova. "Okay, Dillon – if you can keep the smart comments to a minimum, you can escort us home."

"My pleasure, ma'am," said Dillon.

Escorted by Alpha Wing, the battered cargo carrier limped back to Babylon 5.

The Stargate team felt the pull of gravity as the ship settled into the station. They rose to their feet, a little unsteady in the changed environment, now that down was down once more.

"Space is a pain in the ass," remarked Jack, as they stripped off the space suits, "but I can't seem to stay out of it."

Ivanova stepped down from the cockpit. She was a strong-looking woman, with an air of cool authority. She was wearing a blue uniform with a straight collar, fastened with a leather lapel. She was met by a man in a similar uniform to her own, only in grey, his hands stuffed nonchalantly in his pockets.

"I'm Lieutenant Commander Ivanova," she said to SG-1, "and this is Mister Garibaldi."

Jack admired Ivanova's confidence and military bearing, almost having to resist the urge to snap off a salute. To his mind, this was clearly someone with natural authority, who commanded respect. She reminded him of some of the officers he had served with back on Earth – the type of person who runs constantly on a sort of nervous energy, always in control, with rarely a feeling of being off-duty.

Mister Garibaldi, on the other hand, looked relaxed, completely at home in his surroundings, but beneath that, Jack could sense a constant undercurrent of suspicion. He got the feeling that this man could go from friendly smile to hostile take-down in seconds if the situation demanded, and, although his hands were in his pockets, that put them not too far away from the little pistol at his hip.

"Security Chief?" Jack asked.

"How did you know?" replied Garibaldi, with a slight grin.

"Just a guess."

"Whoa," said Garibaldi, "you won't be needing that!"

Teal'c had been unpacking his gear from the backpack of the suit and had pulled out his zat weapon.

"I'll just keep a hold of that for now," said Garibaldi, lifting the zat carefully from Teal'c's hand. "You can pick it up before you leave."

Teal'c gave a questioning look to Jack, who lifted his hands slightly to indicate that it was okay to surrender the weapon.

"So…" said Jack, "you've met Teal'c. I'm Colonel Jack O'Neill, this is Major Samantha Carter and that is Doctor Daniel Jackson."

Ivanova looked them all up and down, appraisingly. "Two officers, a doctor and a man with only one name," she said. "An interesting team."

"That they are," agreed Jack. "Hey, thanks for saving our space-suited butts out there. What was all that?"

Ivanova shrugged. "Just a little local pirate trouble," she said. "We took out one of their major raiding parties a while back and they've been picking at us ever since. Nothing we can't handle, but these hit-and-fade routines can get wearing."

"It's when they stop that I get worried," put in Garibaldi. "Means they're putting together something big. As long as they keep throwing one or two fighters at us at a time, we can cope."

A small metal plate attached to the back of Ivanova's hand beeped and she lifted it to her face. "Ivanova," she said.

"Are the visitors aboard?" said a man's voice from the communicator.

"Yes, Commander," she replied. "I'm bringing them to you now. I just need to assign someone to stow their gear."

"Good," replied the commander. "I'll expect you shortly. Sinclair out."

They stepped out of the cargo carrier's hold, into a vast docking bay which teemed with activity, as groups of workers in overalls transported crates and boxes to and from the other ships in the bay. One such team, at Ivanova's command, climbed aboard the cargo carrier to retrieve SG-1's gear.

All the while, Ivanova was handing out orders through the com-link on her hand. "Ivanova to Maintenance," she said. "There's a cargo carrier needs patching up, in Bay 3."

They left the docking bay and headed deeper into the station, Garibaldi falling into step beside Jack. "So you're from Earth?" he asked. "The twentieth century?"

"Twenty-first, actually," said Jack. "But only just."

Garibaldi got a wistful, faraway look in his eye. "Man, I love the twentieth century. The cars, the music, the television shows."

"The Simpsons," added Jack.

"I'm more of a Warner Brothers man myself," confessed Garibaldi.

"Philistine," said Jack, with a grin.

Ivanova tapped her communicator again. "Ivanova to Control – have some quarters assigned for our recent arrivals." She broke off and turned to SG-1. "I assume you all want separate rooms?" she asked.

Sam couldn't help throwing a rather guilty-looking glance at Jack, who managed to ignore her.

"Yes," he said. "That'd be great."

If Ivanova had noticed the look Sam had given, she also pretended not to notice. She nodded and continued down the corridor, still seeming to run the station via the back of her hand.

Garibaldi found he was warming to SG-1, now that he felt they posed no threat to security. "Okay," he announced. "That concludes the grand tour of the docking bay. Now, if you'll follow me, our next stop: Commander Sinclair."