Title: Babylon 5- Amateur Redux. 2257- The Gathering.
Author: Nyt Yanse.
Fandom: Babylon 5.
Characters: Pretty much all canon characters and one OFC.
Story Type: Angst.
Rating: PG.
Disclaimer: I don't own it. I don't get money from it. Sue me and I'll laugh. And hide.
Warnings: AU. Some minor bad language. Maybe a teensy bit of violence. And a lot of emoness.
Spoilers: It's basically Babylon 5's pilot with OCness, so technically there are spoilers, but they aren't completely canon.
Summary: Sergeant Victoria Miranda Lochley-Sheridan comes to the station the day after Ambassador Kosh is attacked. She is assigned menial tasks and deals with the Command crew trying to understand her.
Author's Note: Well, here we go. This is the first part, will be doing five more, one for each season. Let me know what you think!
I do not think that I can do a better, equal or even passable imitation of The Great Maker Stracysnski. This is just for fun. Would appreciate comments and constructive critisms.
***
"Shuttle preparing to dock. Please stand by."
Sergeant Victoria Miranda Lochley-Sheridan leaned back in her seat and held onto the hand rail. She felt the shuttle shudder as it entered the slight gravity of the station. She still had several minutes to think. She chose to use them.
She knew all the technical information about the station, of course. Babylon 5, the fifth instalment of the Babylon Project, the first three having been destroyed by terrorists and the fourth having disappeared inexplicably. 2'500'000 tons of metal, 5 miles long, using standard spinning technology to create gravity. A centre for commerce and diplomacy, free trade and cross-cultural understanding... Our last best hope for peace, as everyone kept saying. The source of great consternation and debate back on Earth. And now her new home, for a little while at least.
She wasn't sure she liked this. She had been comfortable on the Agamemnon, in so many ways- it really had been a home. She knew that, materialistically at least, the station would be more comfortable, but the station wasn't her home. The Agamemnon was.
But, no use fussing about that now. She was here. She had her orders. She just hoped the staff on Babylon 5 would follow theirs to the letter. She really didn't fancy having to deal with the same crap she'd had to put up with on her previous assignments.
At any rate, there surely wouldn't be time for the usual misunderstandings and misconceptions. From what she had heard, there was a diplomatic time bomb, just waiting to go off. Yesterday, Ambassador Kosh of the Vorlon Empire was departing from his ship in Bay 11 when he collapsed... from unknown reasons.
Vicki was jarred out of her train of thought as the shuttle docked with the station. She waited for the green light above her head to illuminate, and then collected her hand luggage.
The Vorlons will want to know what happened, mused Vicki. They will want to know if someone was responsible for the Ambassador's condition. If so, they will want to know why the security was so lax. If not, they will want to know what the doctors on Babylon 5 are doing to help Kosh. Or at least, that's what she would be thinking in their position. She didn't know exactly how they thought. Vicki frowned. She didn't like mysteries.
The door slid open to reveal the packed inner workings of Babylon 5's biggest docking bay. Vicki looked around apprehensively. She hated crowds. Usually, they weren't too fond of her either. Steeling herself for the fray, she plunged in.
Ten minutes later, she finally arrived at the exit to the Bay. She felt distinctly ruffled and mussed. This won't do. She had to meet her immediate supervisor, a Michael Garibaldi, she believed, as soon as she could. She couldn't turn up looking windswept; he'd never take her seriously. If he even will when he sees me anyway.
Actually, Sergeant Sheridan didn't look windswept, or mussed. Her hazel brown, shoulder length hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, not one strand out of place. Her ever-so-slightly rounded face was clean, and her skin its usual alabaster white, clear of make up or smudges. Her grey EarthForce uniform was straight and unwrinkled, only slightly stretched around her middle from too long bent over language files eating vacuum preserved snacks, her badges and stat bar straight and flat. Her black boots were black as pitch, and shiny as a mirror. Her bag, with her personal documents and immediate necessities like her credit chit and her transfer papers, was clean and properly set on her shoulders. She was the picture of Military Organisation in every inch of her five foot nothing form. She still felt ruffled.
Resisting the urge to begin fiddling with her uniform, she walked out to meet her fate. She tried to think of it in better terms, remembering something her Grandfather had once said. 'Never knock it until you've tried it'. She would give Babylon 5 its chance. She would try.
***
The Sergeant walked past the guard on the customs gate with practised ease. That is to say, every bone in her body was tense as she forced herself to present ease to the world, or at least the station. She did not want to get this wrong. First impressions are everything.
It took her about 4 seconds to locate Garibaldi. He was standing on the other side of the customs hall, talking to 2 other security officers. She approached him, trying to project the best combination of confidence, respect and humility. She walked up and stood to the side of him, waiting for him to acknowledge her.
She waited almost 2 minutes without a signal from the man that he had seen her. She fought the desire to tap him. Or slap him. The head of security of a space station this size needs to focus his attentions towards multiple places, she reminded herself. He wouldn't be doing his job if he dropped everything for a female face.
She waited another minute before he sent the 2 men he had been talking to off. Then he turned his back to her and started to do some work on his pad! Now, Vicki really had to fight the urge to slap him. Unable to think of anything else to do, she decided to speak.
"Pardon me..." She began. Garibaldi immediately turned around and glanced briefly at her.
"The Human Tourist Bureau is on Green 3. You can find on the Core Shuttle. It's all clearly signposted."
Then he walked off! There goes the first impression. Now she was really ticked.
"Pardon me..." She began again, walking around Garibaldi and stopping in front of him. "I am not a tourist." He looked at her again, this time taking in the uniform. "My name is Victoria Lochley-Sheridan. Sergeant. EarthForce. I have been transferred to the Security team here from the EAS Agamemnon. You are the head of security here; I need to report to you. Here are my transfer papers." She handed him the wad of papers her last CO had given her. Far from suddenly looking more professional, Garibaldi smirked.
"OK, who put you up to this? Morishi? Welch?" Vicki swelled in suppressed rage.
"I was not 'put up to this'. I am here to work on your team, Mister Garibaldi. If you will look at the papers-"
"You," said Mister Garibaldi, pointing at her, "are a kid."
Vicki felt embarrassment flush her face. "I am 16 years old, Mister Garibaldi." She fought the urge to add that she would be 17 in three months. It wouldn't sound mature. "Hardly a kid."
The man raised his eyebrows. "EarthForce doesn't let cadets in under the age of 17. You expect me to believe that they have a 16 year old Sergeant?"
Fighting the urge to either throw her papers at him and storm off or burst into tears, or both, she tried again. "Just get on the link to Commander Sinclair and tell him that your new Sergeant is here. He will confirm what I have told you."
Shaking his head in what must be the most annoyingly condescending manner possible, Garibaldi turned away and activated his link. "Commander? It's Garibaldi."
"This is the Commander." Said a deep, silky voice. "What is it Michael?"
"I got a girl here," Vicki felt another stab of anger at the term girl, "who says she's here to be on my team-"
"Yes, I've only just got the news myself. Sergeant Victoria Miranda Lochley-Sheridan. This is on the level, Michael. I know she's young, but the Senate insists; we have to treat her like one of the team. She's a linguistic expert, we need her. Or, at least, that's what the Senate is saying. I've lodged protests with them about this but for now, she's with you. I'll check in on the situation later. Sinclair out."
Garibaldi toggled his link off and looked at Sheridan. Who looked back, trying not to show the humiliation she felt at being treated like this. Like a child. Then she saw it in his face, the one thing worse than mocking laughter. Pity.
"Look-"
"I'm not interested. Sir. I am sure I have a job to do here." She had given it its chance, and the station was already failing. "If you will assign me to a designated beat-"
"Hell no!" He looked surprised she had even said it. "I am not assigning a kid-"
"I am not-"
"Fine, fine, a young adult then- to work beat! No way!" He looked her up and down, appraising her. "We've got some paperwork in the Security Hub that needs doing."
"Paperwork!!! You've got to be kidding-"
"No buts! No objections, no protests, at least not here- Just go! I'll show you the way." As Vicki opened her mouth to protest again, he overshot her. "NO! You're on Admin duty. Shoo!" And he actually shooed her away, like a naughty toddler.
As they went, Vicki felt the tears of humiliation and rage prick behind her eyes. Screw trying, she thought. Just screw it.
***
Admin duty. A desk job. This was humiliating.
Vicki had training and experience in hand to hand combat, space combat, strategy, intelligence gathering, defence, legal arrests... She might as well have stayed on Earth and learned how to knit scarves until she was in her 20's. Then she would be taken seriously.
So often, since the Earth-Minbari War had ended and she had decided to stay in EarthForce to work her way up the ranks, she had regretted it. She had wished she could go back to her Grandparents' farm on Mars and stay there. Forget the universe and its many problems, leave it to the adults. They seemed to think they could handle it. But sheer Sheridan stubbornness had kept her in the service. Sometimes it helped that she didn't give up until she had what she wanted. Sometimes, it was a right pain in the butt.
Suddenly, Garibaldi entered the Hub. He looked worried. Not that Vicki knew him too well, but he was defiantly more stressed than when she had met him.
"Sheridan, I need your help with something."
"Sure, go ahead." Might as well see if I can rebuild a bridge here, she thought. I do need to work with this man.
"We just received confirmation from Doctor Kyle that Kosh's collapse was the result of poisoning. Jeff's just ordered the station locked down, until the would-be killer can be found. I need to put up several signs around the major areas, the Zoccolo, the main corridor, the customs area... so that civilians know what they need to know about why they can't leave the station."
Great, more secretary work. She thought. "Of course," she said. "Where shall we start?"
"The Zoccolo. It's at its least busy now, better to get it done than get caught up in the afternoon shopping rush.
Vicki nodded. Maybe working with Garibaldi won't be so bad, she thought as she picked up some notifications of station travel closure and headed for the door.
"Here, let me carry those for you." He said, taking the sheaf from her. Vicki ground her teeth in frustration.
***
They were in the Zoccolo, hanging up the notices. Sheridan had been silent all the way here. Michael had the nasty feeling he had insulted her when he took the papers. He was just trying to be polite!
"So," he said, trying to think of something to say to a child prodigy. He knew she was one because the Senate had sent parts of her personnel file to him, to reassure him that she was competent, despite her age. Garibaldi then remembered what else he had read in her file. "So, your father is John Sheridan, isn't he?"
"Captain John James Sheridan, yes." Her voice was as cold as an ice cap.
"I always admired him for his work during the war." Not technically true, but maybe it would help her thaw out a bit. It didn't.
"He did his duty, like all good officers."
"And, your mother? She's in EarthForce too, isn't she?"
"Yes. Captain Elizabeth Victoria Lochley."
"So, your mum never took your dads name?"
"They aren't married." Garibaldi tried not to sigh in frustration as he finished putting up his sign. Sheridan had already finished and was standing, still as a statue, waiting for him. He felt that he would get better conversation from a Vid screen. At least they tended to give you more info than you wanted. Talking to Vicki was like talking to a computer console. She gave you the info immediately relevant to your enquiry and then shut up.
They headed towards to transport tube. "What about the rest of your family? Any siblings or Aunts or-"
"All relevant information for familial contacts is in my file, Mister Garibaldi. If you need to inform them of a crisis, you should look there."
This time, Garibaldi did sigh. "I'm just trying to be friendly." He said as they stepped into the tube. As the doors closed, she just glared at him.
Ten minutes later, they had just finished setting up the posters in the main corridor when Garibaldi tried again. "So, your friends? Mates? Any stories?"
"Mister Garibaldi, I just arrived on the station yesterday evening. I have been working in Administration ever since. I have not had the opportunity to 'make friends'."
"And with that attitude you never will." Muttered Garibaldi, hoping she didn't hear him.
Just as they reached the customs area, Garibaldi decided to make one last ditch attempt to make nice with the new Sergeant. "So what do you think of the station?"
"I think it's a chaotic, 2 and a half million tonne trashcan in space that is infested with bias, prejudice and stupid questions." Garibaldi gave up.
***
Vicki passed yet another technician who stared at her uniform. She resisted the urge to turn around and smack him. She knew that she looked unusual. A teenager in a Sergeants uniform. But surely word had got out by now? Surely they knew?
She entered Command and Control, papers in hand. Some progress report to give to one of the techs on duty. She saw the lead technician, a Second Lieutenant David Corwin, and walked up to him. He also looked young for an officer. Of course, he still looked like an adult. Just a young one. Vicki, on the other hand, was frequently mistaken for a girl in her young teens, like 12 or 13. Being short and having dimples sucked.
The tech, Corwin accepted her report without more than a brief glance. He didn't stare at her, or gape even. She liked him already.
She turned to leave, and saw Garibaldi and someone wearing the uniform of Lieutenant Commander enter C+C. This must be the XO, Laurel Takashima. She and the new bane of her existence were in a heated discussion. Vicki caught a few words as they neared her position.
"I don't care what she said; I don't trust telepaths, who knows what she saw?"
"She was right about the location of the poison; everyone's going to say that she was telling the truth about the Commander-"
"Jeff wouldn't try to kill a visiting diplomat!" Vicki stopped in her tracks. "He wouldn't! I mean, except in self defence, obviously. But he wouldn't-"
"Someone's accused the Commander of attacking Kosh?" Asked Sheridan, unable to resist the urge.
"Yes." Said Garibaldi shortly. Sheridan mentally shrugged. Obviously he hadn't gotten over their conversation earlier. Oh well. She hadn't said anything that she hadn't meant.
"Then why is he still 'the Commander'? If he's been accused of attempted murder he should have been relieved-"
"Hey! The so-called evidence is insubstantial at best!"
"Alright. What is the evidence?" Ah. There. Something flashed in Garibaldi's eyes. Uncertainty.
"I'm not at liberty to discuss it with a... well..."
A child? Vicki thought angrily. Struggling to keep her voice under control, Vicki said, "Well then, if the evidence was clear enough that you can talk about it in public, then it is probably true, unless you make a habit out of spreading wild stories about your CO."
Garibaldi took a definite offense at that. "Hey, just because you're a humourless icicle with no heart, a computer core for a brain and no sense of loyalty, doesn't mean no-else here can grasp the concept of believing in someone!"
"Perhaps," interrupted the Lieutenant Commander, "we can discuss this at another time?" The techs in C+C were obviously listening, though they were doing their jobs at the same time.
Vicki went to leave, but stopped at the door. "If Sinclair did try to do it," she said, turning to look at Garibaldi, "then even his friends must realize that he doesn't deserve their... blind faith." Then she left, the sound of Garibaldi's deep breaths of outrage following her out into the corridor.
***
Vicki was still fuming. It was one thing to wait until you knew all of the facts before making a judgement. She tried to do that herself, though it didn't always work. It was another thing entirely to ignore evidence of any kind in favour of helping a friend. She had a nasty suspicion that Garibaldi was putting his heart before his head. In the business of Security, that could be a costly mistake. Maybe I should send a report-
"Ouch! Please, watch where you're sticking your instruments, Doctor Kyle!" God, she hated physicals. And checkups. Actually, she hated being giving anything resembling medical attention. She wanted to be in control of her own body, all the time. She didn't trust anyone, except maybe her parents, with the care of her body. Certainly not some doctor she'd met all of five minutes ago.
"I am sorry, Sergeant. Just trying to get as accurate a reading as possible."
Well, that was all well and good. It didn't mean he could stick his scanner into the side of her back like that. It had almost hurt.
"There. All done." Vicki tried to ignore his tone of voice, which was a bit too placating for her tastes. Like a doctor who'd just given an infant an inoculation. She put her uniform jacket on, just as someone came into the Medical Bay. "Ah, Lyta. Good to see you."
"Doctor." The speaker was a young human woman, red hair and a Psi Corps badge. Vicki wondered, briefly, why a telepath was here, as she automatically put her mental defences up. A force of habit she had cultivated in the war and never got rid of. "How is he?" Vicki looked over to the isolab.
Kosh was lying there. Or, at least, his encounter suit was lying on the table. Nothing of the being inside could be seen. She wondered why the Vorlon wasn't resting outside. The suit probably wasn't very comfortable, and the MedBay's isolab had provided the proper atmosphere.
The Doctor began to ramble off about how the Ambassador was doing as Vicki straightened her uniform. As Kyle paused in his narrative, Vicki interrupted.
"May I go now, Doctor? I'm assuming that my medscan results were all clear?" She felt fine, at least.
"What? Oh yes, well... They were mostly clear, though your blood pressure was a little high; it's nothing to worry about." The doctor took her aside and spoke a little quieter. "Though there is one thing I'm a little... Your weight."
Feeling more than a little pushed, Vicki responded. "What about it?"
"Well, you're a bit, and only a bit, overweight. It's not a real problem but-"
"Listen, doctor..." Began Vicki, intending to tell him exactly what she thought of his ideas about her weight and where he could shove them, when she heard several odd clicking sounds. She turned, just in time to see the woman, Lyta, interfering with the panel controlling the Ambassador's isobay. "HEY!" She shouted, getting both Lyta and the Doctors' attention.
"What in gods' name are you doing?!" Shouted Kyle, running for the console. The saboteur ran for the door, and Vicki grabbed her by the arm. She was a woman, human, not very muscular, Vicki had taken down worse...
The next thing she knew, floor and ceiling were revolving, and Vicki was flying through the door. And then landing, right on top of the saboteur.
Before she'd had time to blink, something moved out of the corner of her eye, and she turned her head... To see the saboteur running down the corridor. Looking down again, she saw the same woman lying beneath her. She looked up to her other side and saw the station Commander. Looking very confused.
Suddenly, she realized. "A Changeling Net." The Commander looked at her. "The assassin is using a Changeling Net."
***
"So you emotionally blackmailed someone into performing an illegal mind scan on a diplomat after giving said diplomat medical attention against the strict orders of his government- Is this really what you call political?"
Commander Sinclair sighed again. Sergeant Sheridan was harder to get along with than Ambassador G'Kar, who would at least pretend to like you, when it suited him. The Sergeant didn't seem to have any interest in making anyone's life easier. Least of all her own. Benjamin looked angry.
"Look young lady-"
"Don't call me that!"
"Listen," said Sinclair, hoping to avoid an argument. "What's done is done, we can't help that. What we can do is find the real assassin before he does any more damage."
"Well, I think I know a way we can do that." Said the Sergeant, looking harassed. Before she could continue, Laurel cut in.
"Listen, you've done your part. You figured out how the Assassin is doing what he's doing. Good job." Sheridan looked like she wanted to punch Laurel. "But now it's time for us to do our jobs. You just go back to your paperwork-"
"If you think-"
"Please!" Shouted Sinclair, "Can we please just calm down?" Laurel sat back in her chair, the picture of ease. Michael looked at him, clearly showing his need for a few hours sleep. Benjamin sat back, breathing deeply. Lyta looked tired, like she hadn't slept since she arrived. Sergeant Sheridan looked at him, defiance in her eyes. She would be trouble. "What were you going to say Sergeant?"
"A Changeling Net puts out a lot of energy. We can adjust the internal scanners and find him or her that way." The others considered it.
"We don't have time for that, it would take hours to adjust the sensors to the necessary-"
"Only two, at the most." Vicki said, cutting Laurel off mid sentence.
"Who in our maintenance crew could do that kind of work in two hours?" Said Laurel, disbelievingly.
"I don't know about your crew, having not worked here long enough to form a real opinion about them, but I could do it in two hours. Probably less than that."
"Really?" Asked Michael, sceptical. The Sergeant glared at him.
"I studied Technology Diagnostics and Repair at the Academy. I got a 4.0." A stunned silence permeated the room.
"OK," said Sinclair, desperate to resolve the situation quickly. "Get to it Sergeant Sheridan. Laurel, help her with that. Michael, amass some weapons so we can go after the guy as soon as we know where he is. Benjamin, get back to MedBay, I don't want you to leave Kosh alone for a minute until I say otherwise. Lyta, if I may, I suggest you get some sleep."
Everyone left the room to follow their respective orders. Sinclair sat back, taking a few deep breaths. The room was still tense.
***
Vicki frowned. She had just been access the stations' database when... There. That shouldn't be. "Lieutenant Commander Takashima." The tall woman approached Vicki's corner of C+C, raising her eyebrows in a silent question. "Has there been any kind of overload in the system logs recently?"
"No, not that I'm aware of, why?"
"Well, there seems to be an unusual number of empty data logs here. Way more than there should be from normal data corruption and computer error." With her back turned to the Lieutenant Commander, Vicki missed the brief look of shock on her face.
"Well, Babylon 5 is a big station, Sergeant Sheridan. Things get lost, interfered with and moved around-"
"I don't think that's what this is. It looks almost as if someone has been deleting random log entries over the last few days..."
Suddenly, Takashima laughed. Vicki jumped slightly, looking around at the woman. "Obviously, you've never dealt with real tech before." Vicki felt outraged.
"I worked on the Agamemnon, I assure you, their tech is quite 'real'."
"Yes, well..." Said Takashima, still smirking, "You have never worked on a station like this before, Sergeant. It's understandable that you'd misunderstand things. I assure you there's nothing wrong here. Just continue with your 'real' work. That is, if you're done asking juvenile questions?"
Vicki was even more offended, but Takashima turned around and walked off. Unable to comment without looking like a petulant child, Vicki turned around and focused on the panel in front of her. There's something... Not quite right about her. Thought Vicki. I'm not sure what it is, but there is something...
***
One hour after the meeting was adjourned, everyone except for Kyle and Alexander was again assembled in C+C. Sergeant Sheridan was working the panel. "We've got the location pinned down to within ten feet." She said neutrally. Garibaldi and Sinclair had almost finished arming up as Sheridan reported the Assassins position. They were almost ready when Garibaldi saw Sheridan reaching for one of the smallest protective jackets.
"Oh no, no no, I don't think so..." He said, reaching over and taking the jacket out of her hands. She looked up, surprised.
"What?"
"I'm not letting you come. Jeff and I got this. You stay here."
"What?! But... I have training and experience in combat situations! You can't just-"
"No, Garibaldi's right." Sheridan looked outraged. Sinclair looked at her calmly. "I won't have the death of a young girl, however intelligent she is, on my conscience. Not when it's not in any way necessary."
Blood flooding her face in embarrassment, Sheridan tried again. "The Senate told you to treat me as one of the team. Somehow I don't think you'd refuse one of your officers in this position if they were an adult."
"The Senate sent you to us as a linguist expert. Not a soldier. You're staying here. Safe. And that's final." The two men left, leaving an angry and resentful Sergeant.
After a moment, Takashima said, "Sergeant? We could use some help with some minor computer glitches over here. My people are all too busy to bother, but since you are free..." Sheridan went over to the necessary console, feeling belittled and useless. Computer glitches. She thought. Is this my life now?
***
Three hours later, Vicki was in her quarters. She was meditating, another tendency from the War, and thinking back on her first day.
After fixing the minor computer problem, which was barely even a problem, she had been given other menial tasks. Tasks that anyone could have done. Tasks that kept her safe while the Vorlons surrounded the station and safe while the Assassin (A Minbari? Who'd have thought?) blew himself up. Nice and safe. She was being treated like a nobody.
Vicki wasn't self centred. Or at least she tried not to be. She knew she wasn't the smartest Human alive, nor one of the smartest. She knew that the universe, EarthForce and this station did not revolve around her. Literally or figuratively. She neither expected nor wanted the universe to jump to her command. She just wanted to be treated like one of the team. Like an adult.
She'd had the mental age and maturity of the average adult by the age of 3. She'd been far more intelligent than the average adult by the age of 5. She'd worked in Special Intelligence during the Earth Minbari War when she'd only been 6 years old for crying out loud! She'd had to win a court battle against the State alongside 51 other children just like her, smart kids, in order to win the right to defend their families, their homes and their lives. Her own parents, while no less loving her, had accepted her status as an adult in mind, if not in body, since she was 4. All she'd wanted her whole life was to be accepted. She had accepted been on the Agamemnon.
OK, so her father had been the CO. OK, so that was probably why the crew had been ready to accept her. She got that. But the crew had accepted her and, as time passed, they had liked, trusted and depended on her as one of the team. As a sister officer of EarthForce. And now...
As if answering her thoughts, the door chime rang. Unfolding from her position on the floor and straightening her uniform, Vicki answered the door. Commander Jeffrey Sinclair stood there in dress uniform. "May I come in?" He said, his deep, lyrical voice resonating. She stood back and let him in.
"I wanted to try and sort things out after earlier." Vicki raised her eyebrows. "You have to understand that... Well. You are an adolescent, despite your incredible intellect. EarthGov was wrong to assign you here, to such a dangerous post... Or anywhere. They were wrong to let you sign up." Vicki took a deep, steadying breath. He did feel the same way that almost everyone else she had ever worked with had felt.
She struggled to control herself, as she felt shivers of rage and emotional pain set in. As soon as she could trust her voice, she spoke. "I know you fought in the War, Sir. I know your reputation." He nodded. "Have you seen the part of my file the Senate sent to you that says that I fought in the war too?" From his expression, he had not.
"I was not in the infantry, needless to say. I was in Intelligence. The Extra-Special Intelligence Division. 52 smart kids, all like me. All under the age of 14. I was the youngest. Working on technical specifications and enemy reports... You know, I was the one who cracked the Minbari language translation? In three weeks! With the technology available to us at the time, it was unheard of. It was a fellow kid in the 'Brat Squadron' as we called ourselves, Benjamin Parell, who came up with the idea of using an advanced version of the sonar radio to track Minbari ships. Not as reliable as we would have liked, but it still saved many lives. He was 10 at the time. Ajiiz Latam found ways of painlessly subduing Minbari ground forces with morph gas that knocked them out instantly without doing anything to our soldiers. He was 8. Saryankha Wvalsh found the best ways to fight Minbari in hand to hand combat, the pressure points, weak spots, she was only 7!"At this point, Vicki had to stop. Her urge to look strong was crumpling under the onslaught of her tears, which she couldn't hold back anymore.
"Look," Said Sinclair, knowing that if he tried to comfort her, she'd probably lash out, "I understand that you want to prove yourself-"
"Prove myself!" Spat Vicki, insulted. "Prove myse- I was in eight different fire fights during the Minbari Onslaught on Janos 7. I fought, and I won. I've arrested 138 criminals since then at various points in my career. I've translated 48 new languages, forged 12 codes yet to be broken for EarthForce Intelligence; I've done just as much if not more than any other Sergeant in EarthForce!"
"Well, maybe you should go back to Earth!" Said Sinclair, unintentionally shouting over her. "Maybe you could join a university, get more degrees..." He had to stop, as she was laughing too hard.
"Degrees? I already have 14 separate degrees and qualifications of university level in various fields. I'm more qualified to work in medicine than most of your medical staff would be! I have more qualifications in maths than the average mathematician! There are no more courses I can take without learning something I already know! Why should I waste years of my life just because Humans can't handle intelligence in a child?" She took a deep breath. Sinclair shifted.
"Look, if you must know. I didn't beg for this position. I didn't even want it. I was happy being a translation specialist on the EAS Agamemnon with my Dad. I was happy there, he was happy with me there, his crew was happy with me there, I was doing good, I was helping Earth with new races and now... EarthGov insisted on my being here. They said I could do more here. That my talents could best be used here. Apparently, that means I can run around doing the kind of work any child half my age would find boringly easy better than any adult. I didn't know that. It's a real ego boost."
After a few moments, Sinclair decided that maybe it was time to open a dialogue. Maybe he could help Sheridan feel more at home here. "You did do exceptional work today, the recalibration-"
"Was something any one of a thousand other EarthForce Personnel on this station and who knows how many other people could have done, it wasn't anything amazing."
Sinclair stood, feeling unsettled. Sheridan was something special, that much was clear. But there was something in her voice, an acceptance that no one would ever take her seriously, that worried him. He hadn't meant to make her feel useless; he was just trying to protect her. To take care of her. No one her age should be in the position she was in. No one.
"I knew your father, in the Academy and in the Service, he was-" But this, apparently, was not the best thing to say, as Sheridan started crying even harder.
"STOP! Don't... Just don't... No more. No more transparent attempts to humour me, no more patronisation, no more complimenting my father just to try and get the over emotional kid to calm down, just stop! I'll do my job, if you and Garibaldi will let me, but I don't have to listen to you and the others try to placate me!" After a moment, she took another breath. "Would you leave now? Please?"
Sinclair moved towards the door, feeling crushed. As the door swung open, he moved out. Just before it shut again, he turned back. Unable to think of anything to say, he said, "Welcome to Babylon 5."
***
"Jeff! Jeff, over here!" Jeff saw Michael and went to sit down with him, Laurel and Ben. They were in Earhart's, drinking water, tea and juice respectively.
"So, Ben, Ambassador Kosh is on his fee- Or whatever." Ben smiled.
"Yes Jeff, he's doing fine. He'll be right as rain for the reception tonight. In fact, what is the time?" Laurel told him, and he nodded. "Well, we should probably finish off here and head there then."
"Sorry you didn't get a drink, Jeff." Said Laurel, finishing off the last of her tea.
"Yeah, what kept you?" Said Garibaldi, swilling the remains of his water around in his glass.
"I was talking to Sergeant Sheridan." He said, frowning. The look on her face as he'd left was still haunting him. Just what had happened to hurt her so much?
"Ah, the ice queen herself."
"Michael!"
"Hey, I'm sorry Jeff, but she is one emotionless little... Ah. There aren't even words for it. Sometimes, over the last day or so since she arrived, I wondered if she can feel anything but irritation."
"I'm sorry to say, I agree with Michael on this one." Said Laurel, putting her cup upside down on the saucer. "She was distant and critical in C+C. I mean, I prefer it when people don't gossip at work, but she was downright rude."
"When she was in for her check-up, she was quiet. The only times I got more than a grunt of affirmation out of her was when I accidently poked her with the scanner and when I told her that she needed to- Do something." Michael raised an eyebrow in Ben's direction. "No, I'm not going to tell you! Patient-Doctor Confidentiality. You should know better!"
Smirking at Michael and Ben's antics, Jeff said, "I don't know. I mean, she may be a kid, but she's smart. So many people wouldn't be able to see past that. Maybe..." and now he was talking more to himself than to the others, "Maybe she's just sick of being treated like someone who can't make her own decisions."
"Well, whatever. All I'm saying is; there's other ways to get people to take you seriously than insulting them! I gotta say, I really don't think she's gonna last long here. She just doesn't have what it takes in the personality department. In that she doesn't have one!" Said Michael, getting ready to go. Ben had already finished his drink, and he and Laurel were standing, ready to go. Jeff stood up.
"Yeah," he said, "that's true..." As they left, he thought about what Michael said. That he thought Sheridan couldn't feel anything. And Jeff disagreed.
***
Back in her quarters, Vicki had collapsed on her bed and cried herself to sleep. She missed real space, she missed the Agamemnon, but most of all... She missed her father. She wanted him here.
No. No, she wanted to be there. With him and the others. She wanted to be with her crew. Not with these strangers who hated her. Who thought of her as an interfering youth. She wanted to be accepted. That was all.
But no. It would never happen. Everything here would be just as bad as before the Agamemnon. The snide comments, the immature pranks, the outright hostility. The feel against her cheek of a pillow soaked with tears every single night. It was never going to change. All she could do was try to stop it from getting to her. She couldn't let them see how much they hurt her. What she felt. She couldn't.
She hoped she'd be strong enough to last here.
