A Place to Call Home - Part 1

A Place to Call Home
By Terri Osborne
terri@terriosborne.com
Part 1

All Babylon 5 characters and settings belong to JMS, Warner Brothers, TNT and anyone else with legitimate legal claim. No infringement of copyright is intended by this work. Only a few select characters are mine, and should the Great Maker need them, or anyone similar to them, I can probably be bought off with a story credit. ;-)

Even though this covers the same time period and the same major event, no infringement upon J. Gregory Keyes' novels is intended. Though, I will draw upon them for some background information.

No infringement on any existing or future copyrights involving the Christina Rosetti poem is intended.

Content Warning: [AC] [AL]

Anything encased in * these * is telepathic speech.

A note from the author: This story centers around three characters, Susan Ivanova, Alina Minette (yes, she's baaaack) and, to a certain extent, Lyta Alexander. To the I&M'ers out there, stay tuned, my friends. For the spoiler-allergic, provided you haven't read it already, I would recommend waiting to read Only Those Whose Lives Are Brief. In an intentional Babylon Squared/WWE homage, the flipside of at least one scene in Brief will show up here.

Since I'm not sure of everyone's schedules, I'll include this potential spoiler warning: I'm a continuity junkie, so this includes events through Season 5, as well as things that were revealed in the closing credits of Sleeping in Light. (If you've seen it, you'll know exactly what I'm talking about. If not, that's okay, it's not quite that obvious.) Background information on the Psi Corps comes from the Keyes novels. Set in the same potential future as Only Those Whose Lives Are Brief. Considering that this covers the time frame of late 2263 - early 2265, I suppose everything is a potential spoiler (though, it would be one INCREDIBLY lucky guess).

And thanks to my eagle-eyed beta readers! Virtual boxes of Godivas to all of you!

Now that I've probably confused the daylights out of you, how about we fix that?

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Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go, yet turning stay.
Remember me when no more, day by day,
You tell me of our future that you planned,
Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray.
Yet if you should forget me for a while
And afterwards remember, do not grieve;
For if the darkness and corruption leave
A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
Better by far you should forget and smile
Than that you should remember and be sad.

-Christina Rosetti (1830-1894)

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December 12, 2263

All it took was a thought.
With little more than a wish that it happen, the engines buried several decks beneath Lyta Alexander's feet roared to life. Their vibrations resonated through the ship's hull, right into its sole passenger's heart.
After a year of travel, she was finally free.
G'Kar no longer needed the ship. His time for exploration was over.
It would serve her well for her own quest.
The search for a world that human telepaths could call their own.
And she had just the planet in mind.

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February 14, 2264

Captain Susan Ivanova stared at the stark walls of the office that surrounded her, her thoughts a million miles away and two years into the past.
There was absolutely nothing that she could do to change the fact that he was gone, not unless she could personally come up with some serious advances in regeneration technology. It had been her final order before leaving Babylon Five. It had yet to be countermanded.
Maybe there was something to be said for this Captain Lochley after all.
Susan silently hoped that one day she would meet the woman, if only to see if everything she had heard about her successor in the last two years were true.
Two years of the life he had given her had come and gone and how had she spent them? Looking for a way back. Two years of looking for something resembling a miracle in the remote civilizations out near the Rim, a search that had come up empty. She had thought she'd found something once, but even that had turned out to be a nothing more than an errant energy spike.
The classic Susan Ivanova luck had reared its ugly head once again.
Where the hell was Lorien when she needed him?
"Captain, communication coming in from Earthdome. Gold Channel. Ultraviolet priority."
Forcing herself out of the past, she turned her attentions to the vidscreen on her desk. If the call was that important, she could at least devote more than her customary level of attention. "Put it through here."
The face that appeared on her monitor was quite a surprise. "Major Ryan?"
"One and the same, Captain. Good to see you again."
"And you," she stated. "What can I do for you?"
The Major's cherubic face held an expression that suggested that Susan was not going to like what came next.
"Captain, I really hate to have to do this to you, especially with these circumstances."
Susan's eyebrows furrowed. "Circumstances, Major?"
"I am assuming that you have heard of the Remember Byron movement?" he asked, folding his hands on the table before him.
"Yes, but I thought Psi Corps brought them under control six months ago?"
"We were led to believe that. Unfortunately, it wasn't true. There were three bombings at Psi Corps recruitment centers yesterday. All of them were claimed by Remember Byron. From what we've been able to discover, Psi Corps consciously lied to the Senate."
Susan tried to look surprised by that, but just could not manage it. "So, Remember Byron never really left?"
"Precisely. Their operations went silent for a while, but not anymore. If anything, they are becoming bolder in their actions. The President believes they should be brought under control as quickly as possible. That's why I'm contacting you personally."
"With all due respect, Major, why me? I don't have any connections to them."
At that, he smiled. "But you do, Captain. Byron was merely the movement's first leader. The violence began near the time of his death. That was when a new leader emerged, a leader that I understand you know personally."
Susan racked her brain. She knew of no revolutionaries, telepathic or otherwise. "Who?"
"Lyta Alexander."
Susan's breath caught. "Lyta? She's leading this thing?"
"Yes, Captain. That is why you are being assigned to put an end to the Remember Byron movement as quickly as possible. Use whatever means you feel are necessary. I know you'll get the job done. The general public can't find out what we're doing, so it's all in your discretion. So as few people know about your mission as possible, you will be reporting directly to me in this matter."
Susan nodded. "Understood, and thank you. We'll put a stop to this whatever it takes."
"I know you will, Captain. Earthdome out."
The screen went black briefly, but only until the official confirmation of her new orders had been downloaded. She carefully read them over, deciding on the best course of action. If Lyta really was heading up this movement, then there was only one place to start.
"Captain to the Bridge. Set course for Babylon Five, best possible speed."

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February 18, 2264

Lyta stepped into what the locals called the Grand Bazaar, taking great care to feel out the vicinity as she passed. Technically, she was not on the run, but if the wrong person recognized her any safety she may have had was gone. She hated heavily populated planets sometimes. Daltron Seven was not proving to be a planet that she would remember fondly.
Putting up the thickest telepathic screens she could manage, she willed herself to be invisible to everyone in the area. Judging by how much passersby were jostling her, the tactic was working. It was beginning to remind her of her last trip to the Drazi homeworld.
A part of her wished that Byron were there. Would it have made things easier? She had no idea. She did miss him, though. So much of her life had changed because of that one man. The Great Maker only knew what would have become of her if she had never met Byron.
With the Vorlons gone, her life had lost its meaning. She had floundered helplessly, until Sheridan had had the brilliant idea to pick up where the Vorlons had left off. He had used her as if she were nothing more than a weapon, not a human being. "Lyta do this." "Lyta do that." Not a single "Would you please," and certainly no "Thank you."
They had even had the gall to try to make her move into smaller quarters after the Vorlons had departed, saying that if she wanted to stay in her home, she had to be the one to pay the rent. It would have been all right if she had not been a rogue telepath, unable to get a job simply because she had taken a stand. "Can't hire a rogue telepath," she had heard over and over again, "there's just too much risk involved."
Still, she went on, until finally the circumstances forced her into a contract with one evil little Psi Cop named Bester just to get her name removed from the rogue list . . . and maybe get a job. Even that had proven worthless.
Thinking she had no other options, she'd cooperated with Sheridan's plans and helped him retake Earth. Still, there was not a word of gratitude from the man who eventually was made leader of the free galaxy. Still, there was no respect.
All of that had changed the day she met Byron.
A former Psi Cop, among the strongest of their kind, Byron had escaped the Psi Corps only a few years before he'd stepped onto Babylon Five with nothing more than a small group of rogue telepaths. His people, he had called them. A small group that wanted nothing more than a safe harbor from the tyranny of the Psi Corps. A small group that only wanted a place they could call home.
Sheridan had offered them sanctuary, thinking he should have a few human telepaths on his side for a war that had then been only a figment of his imagination. Ammunition for a war that would soon be knocking on the front door of the Interstellar Alliance itself.
A dark smile crept onto Lyta's face. She would make certain that Sheridan stopped seeing telepaths as just another weapon for his arsenal. It was just a shame that Byron wouldn't be there to see the victory.
Now he was gone, a martyr for the cause.
She had Sheridan to thank for that, too.
Her steps led her around the Bazaar, stopping at booth after booth along the way for supplies. Some fruits from one booth, a few vegetables from another, nothing overly perishable. Nothing that wouldn't last until the next time she could stop for provisions.
"Excuse me," she said, trying to pass by one rather burly Brakiri shopper.
The shopper, however, didn't seem to be one for common courtesy. He took one step back and, combined with his size, the force of the bump knocked Lyta into a small group of people. Without a second look her way, he walked off as if nothing had happened.
"Hey!" Lyta shouted, making her apologies to the shoppers as she helped them recover their balance.
The buffoon, however, didn't slow in his escape.
Her temper flared. She began to stalk through the jungle of shoppers toward the Brakiri, intent on giving him a lesson in manners. Her senses told her when innocent people were near, allowing her steps to go unimpeded as she drew closer to her target.
Still, he kept walking.
The more he kept walking, the more her irritation grew.
This fool obviously had no idea of who he had offended.
She was drawing closer when he stopped cold in his tracks.
"I think you owe someone an apology." The voice that carried over the crowd was distinctly female. It was not one Lyta recognized, but it carried an unusual amount of authority. Her accent vaguely reminded Lyta of that Ranger, Marcus. The oversized Brakiri blocked her view, so she decided to do a little investigating of her defender the only way she could. Looking around, she made sure that the coast was clear before reaching out toward the woman telepathically.
What she met were blocks that could only have been put up by an incredibly strong telepath. Certainly stronger than Byron had been.
"Why don't you apologize to the lady, and then you can be on your way," the mysterious woman calmly said.
Lyta left her feelers out and discovered another interesting thing. The man was under the influence of quite a bit of telepathic persuasion. She knew the power existed, had even used it on a few rare occasions. What surprised her was how fast it was working. Lyta raised her estimation of her defender's abilities another notch.
The Brakiri slowly turned around. When she got a good look at his eyes, they were glassy, unfocussed. He looked to be in some sort of telepathic trance.
"I am . . . sorry," he said in a mechanical tone.
Lyta nodded, stunned.
Without another word, the Brakiri walked off into the crowd.
Lyta turned to find her advocate heading off in the opposite direction. "Thank you!" she called.
The woman turned, and it became abundantly clear why she had used her telepathic abilities instead of her fists. She stood a good three inches shorter than Lyta. Her hair was black, like shining glass, pulled into a tight ponytail. Her features were delicate, but strong, with eyes that were a startling dark green. "You're welcome. Now, if I were you, I'd be on my way, Miss Alexander."
"You know who I am?"
"Every self-respecting telepath in this sector knows who you are," the woman said. "Now, if you'll excuse me-"
"What's your name?" Lyta asked, stepping toward the woman.
Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. Lyta expected a probe at her defenses, but one never came. "Why do you want to know?"
Lowering her voice, she chose her words carefully. "You're a strong telepath. One of the strongest I've ever seen, in or out of the Corps. My guess is you've gone rogue. How long has it been since you went home?"
The woman's eyes closed. Lyta sensed that the subject was painful. "My home was destroyed six years ago," she said.
Lyta cursed herself. "I'm sorry. I really am."
"There's nothing to be sorry for. The Shadows blew it apart, and I helped teach them a lesson."
Something about her story struck a chord in Lyta. She felt as if she had heard it before. "What about Earth? Do you have any family on Earth?"
The woman shook her head.
"Help me." The words were out of Lyta's mouth before she realized that she had said them. Gently touching the woman's arm, Lyta led her to a more private area of the Bazaar. "Help me find a home for our people. I need someone with your talents. Help me and maybe I can help find a new home for you, too."
"I am not a charity case," she snarled.
"I didn't say you were. Look, if you know who I am, then you know what I'm fighting for. I'll admit, I've made more than a couple of mistakes since this whole thing started, but that's over. I'm headed for Mars. An associate of mine there was putting together a force that I could use against the Corps. I'm going to need help leading it."
"What makes you think you can trust me?"
"You know who I am. Judging by that little display, if you wanted to kill me, you could have had anyone around here do it. I've seen the slimiest of Psi Cops that couldn't do what you just did. Deep scans, yes. Telepathic trances, yes. But full-out mind control? If the Shadows had that ability, we'd have lost the War. I can do it, but not that well. I'm curious to know how you can do it so easily."
The woman's green eyes narrowed. Lyta could feel a probe at her telepathic defenses. After a few seconds of debating whether to let her through, Lyta instead chose to see if she was strong enough to get there on her own.
The woman was about to breach Lyta's defenses when she suddenly pulled back. "Can you get me to Babylon Five?" she asked.
Lyta shook her head, still somewhat stunned, then gave the idea a second thought. "The deal for my freedom was that I had to leave the station and never come back. I suppose, technically, they couldn't do anything to me if I stayed on the ship. Mind if I ask why?"
"I'm looking for an old friend. Last I heard, that's where he was."
Lyta took a mental step back. She valued her freedom so much. Was getting this woman's help worth jeopardizing everything? She was without a doubt the strongest telepath Lyta had ever seen. She needed this woman on her side, no matter the cost. She would just have to convince Lochley and Zack of her innocence if it came up.
Then again, there were always ways to keep the subject from coming up. She had thought G'Kar crazy for installing it, but maybe that sensor-shielded cargo hold would finally come in handy. "All right," she said. "We'll stop on our way to Mars, agreed?"
The woman smiled. "Agreed."
Lyta looked down at her small bundle of food. "I've only been getting enough food for one. So, if you want anything, we'd better get it now."
"I've got plenty of supplies in my quarters," the woman said, stepping toward the door. "Should be enough to last a few weeks."
Lyta followed her, remembering one thing. "You know, you never told me your name."
"Alina," she said. "Alina Minette."

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February 23, 2264

Susan stepped into Captain Elizabeth Lochley's office with all of the military precision she could muster, convinced that she had to make the proper impression. She was a ship's captain now and she fully intended to be treated like one.
Besides, she knew how well the station's rumor mill worked. Her departure must have given it grist for the last two years. Thanks to a few well-placed contacts, Susan had heard a few of those rumors, even the one that said she had left the station because of Marcus.
Although that one was true, she still didn't have to like it.
Captain Lochley had apparently been waiting. Susan stopped at the doorway, surprised at the physical resemblance between herself and the new captain. Where Susan normally wore her dark brown hair in a tight ponytail, Lochley appeared to prefer wearing hers loose. The blue eyes Susan had been seeing in the mirror lately looked dull compared to Lochley's. It was getting eerie, same uniform, same stance. Hell, the woman even held her hands behind her back the same way. Susan almost wanted to call Corwin in, just to see if he could tell the difference.
He was still here, wasn't he?
"Captain Ivanova," Lochley said, extending a hand. "Welcome back."
Susan shook the woman's hand. "Thank you, Captain. I'm sorry to say it's not a social call, though."
Lochley gave a curt nod. "I understand. The station's at your disposal. What can we do for you?"
Susan took a step toward the window, looking out over the view of the slowly rotating central core. She just could not believe what she was about to ask. "I'm on Earthforce business. I need to speak with Lyta Alexander personally."
Lochley shook her head. "I'm sorry, but that's not possible."
"But, you just-"
"I know," Lochley said, holding up a hand. "If she were here, I'd be more than happy to oblige you. The problem is she's gone. She left with G'Kar over a year ago."
Susan's eyes shot open. "She left with G'Kar?"
Lochley nodded.
"Any idea where they went?"
Lochley stepped over to her desk, punching a few buttons on her monitor. "Best we can give you is the flight plan they filed when they left. Looks like they were headed out near Emphili space."
Susan's eyebrows furrowed at the reference. "That's one hell of a long trip, even in hyperspace."
"That was G'Kar's idea. I think he wanted to get as far away from here as possible."
"Why?"
Lochley chuckled. "His fans. I take it you haven't read the Book of G'Kar yet?"
Susan shook her head. "We've been out on the Rim for the last two years, Captain. It's hard to get the bestsellers."
Lochley settled into her chair, her eyes narrowing. "So, Earthdome's put you after Lyta?"
"Yes."
"Between you and me, I wouldn't want your job for anything."
"Why?" Susan asked, sinking into the cushions of the large sofa.
Lochley stirred uneasily in her chair. "Frankly, telepaths have always spooked me a little. But Lyta, that one terrifies me."
"The Lyta I knew wouldn't hurt a fly."
"She's not the Lyta you knew, Captain. Hell, she's not the Lyta I met when I got here."
"What happened to her?"
"Byron," Lochley flatly replied.
Susan shook her head. She had read bits and pieces about Byron from the reports sent by Earthdome. He had been the leader of a small band of rogue telepaths that had requested asylum on the station. Lochley's own report had described him as charismatic, charming; the classic example of a traditional cult leader.
From what Susan could tell, everything had gone along just fine until Byron, with Lyta by his side, had confronted the Alliance demanding a homeworld for telepaths. He had basically said that the Alliance owed a debt to telepaths for the Shadow War, that telepaths were victims of the Vorlons and deserved reparations. If reparations could not come from the Vorlons, then they would come from their inheritors.
Susan had chalked that up as his first mistake.
From reading the reports, it appeared to have been the first of many. After everything that had happened here, it didn't surprise her one bit that Lochley was afraid of telepaths.
What surprised her the most was Lyta. The telepath had done so much good during the Shadow War. They could not have retaken Earth without her help. How could someone like Lyta have fallen in with such a crowd? How could such a powerful telepath be lured in by someone like Byron? Lyta should have been able to see through the ruse immediately. Susan briefly wondered what she would have done in Lochley's place.
"I don't know what happened here, Captain, but I need to understand it. I'd appreciate anything you could give me. Zack, too. It may help me figure out where she went."
Lochley's link chirped. "Lochley, go."
"Captain, you're needed in C and C."
Susan didn't recognize the voice, but smiled all the same. "Never gives you a second's peace, does it?"
Lochley rolled her eyes. "I'll be right there. Lochley out."
"Look, you go put out the fire. We can get back to this later. Besides, there's something I need to take care of before I go."
Lochley pulled herself out of the chair. "Go ahead. I'll have Security pull a full report. You'll get a copy of everything we've got. If you need anything else, just let me know."
Susan nodded. "Thank you, Captain."
Lochley stopped in the doorway. "And, for the record, Captain, it was nice finally meeting you."

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February 23, 2264

When she was sure Doctor Hobbs was looking the other way, Susan crossed the threshold of the cryo room. At the height of the Shadow War, every tube in the place had been filled with high-level telepaths. Now, however, they were all empty.
Except one.
Susan flattened a palm against the black metal of the cryo unit. "I'm here," she whispered. "I know you can't hear me. I wish you could. God knows I could use you around right now."
She turned a guilty look toward the door, not quite sure she could handle someone accidentally walking in.
The coast was clear.
"I don't know what to do, Marcus. They want me to find Lyta, bring her in. I'm not sure I can do it. I don't know how to turn in a friend. What did she do to deserve this?"
She leaned her forehead against the cold metal. The temperature was actually somewhat comforting. "She's taking on the Corps. God, Marcus, what do I do if I agree with her?"
Closing her eyes, she allowed her mind to wander over the situation. What if she agreed with Lyta? What if Lyta had a viable plan to take down the Psi Corps? Susan had already thrown her future out the door once to follow Sheridan on his crusade. It had taken something resembling a miracle for her to get her career back after that.
Lyta's quest hit a little closer to home, though. Had Lyta finally found a way for Susan to pay back the Corps for her mother's suicide? Was vengeance enough to justify potentially walking away from the Valkyrie, and even Earthforce, forever?
Worse yet, if it came down to it, could she bring herself to kill a friend?
The chill against her forehead seemed to mutate into a cool calm, radiating into her neck, shoulders, and finally her arms. All she wanted to do was cry, but she'd shed enough tears on this station for one lifetime. No more.
In the calm that encircled her, she came to a realization.
"Whatever it takes, Marcus. Ryan told me to do whatever I thought had to be done. There's no way I'm going to know until I find Lyta. I don't think I could kill her, but I do know that I can't let the Corps win, either."
She slowly closed her eyes, feeling her composure slip back into place. Major Ryan had put her in the middle of a serious situation. They had to know about Sophie Ivanova. Major Ryan at the very least had to suspect the corner that he was boxing Susan into.
Susan took a deep breath. No, she could not let the Corps win. Just the idea of working in their favor turned her stomach. The real problem was that she could not let Lyta win this, either. There had to be a middle ground, and she had to be the one to find it.


[End part 1 of ?]