Title: Babylon 5- Amateur Redux. 2258- Signs And Portents.
Chapter One- Midnight On The Firing Line/ Soul Hunter.
Characters: OFC, Sinclair, Garibaldi, Ivanova, Franklin, Talia, G'Kar, Vir, Delenn, Londo.
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. Naughty thoughts and mini voyeurism. Some minor violence and very minor bad language.
Spoilers: It's basically Babylon 5's episodes Midnight On The Firing Line and Soul Hunter with OCness, so technically there are spoilers, but they aren't completely canon.
Summary: Sergeant Sheridan begins to let her walls down and Commander Sinclair takes a couple of risks.
Author's Note: 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. Any Minbari words used are from Hightowers' dictionary on the JumpNow website. Also, I have chosen to go with the chronological order as described on The Babylon Project wikia entertainment website. This is different from the Broadcast order. My apologies if anyone gets confused, I will be using episode titles and dates to try and keep things clear.
I will (hopefully!) be publishing 5 major parts as of this part, one for each season, called by the season title. My apologies if people have been having a hard time keeping track of where all the one shots I've done so far fit in, I will be clearly referencing them in the chapter Author Notes as to where they are in chronology. I hope to update chapters reasonably frequently but if I lag then maybe you can write lots of lovely encouraging reviews? ;)
P.S still have no Beta. Wouldn't mind one. *smiley face*
***
February 2258.
***
One year. A whole year. Just over one actually. And she had survived. She sent a silent thank you to the forces of chance that she still lived and had her sanity as she meandered through the Zoccolo. She hated crowds.
Vicki had thought she couldn't live here. The staff, the days after she'd arrived, had been... Somewhat less than promising in their reactions to a 16 year old Sergeant. She had spent months repressing her emotions so they couldn't see how much she hurt, every day. But then, almost 3 months ago, Takashima had been reassigned and Vicki could relax a little.
Lieutenant Commander Laurel Takashima had been a major problem. The others hadn't been major problems. Vicki almost never encountered her CO, Commander Jeffrey Sinclair. He worked in his office or the Council Chambers, she was usually kept in some safe area of the Security Hub or C+C, working paperwork on the various arrests on Babylon 5 or on some obscure computer problem. The few times they had crossed paths, it had been strictly work. This suited her fine. He had treated her like he did any other officer, which made her happy. Michael Garibaldi, her immediate senior officer, usually just gave her some paperwork to do and left her to it. He still refused to assign her to active security work. At least he didn't try to carry things for her anymore. Doctor Benjamin Kyle was also alright, though he seemed to have had a bug up his butt the size of a lemming when it came to the subject of her weight. Just because she was a couple of stones over the healthy weight for a five foot tall 17 year old, he seemed to think that this warranted medical intervention. He'd tried offering alternative food choices and minor diet drugs, had even suggested once that she see a councillor about her 'emotional dependency on comfort foods'! But he'd left, transferred, and they were expecting a new doctor sometime in the next couple of weeks. She hoped he'd stay off her back, or rather her stomach, about her eating habits.
But Takashima... She had always unnerved Vicki. Just something in the way she held herself, something in her eyes. She had never trusted the Lieutenant Commander. And she certainly couldn't like her. The others on the station had all at least accepted that she was here and that she worked alongside them but Takashima could never resist the urge to dig at her. She'd ask Vicki why she hadn't returned to Earth to take a college course, or how the paperwork was going, always snide little comments that no-one else seemed to notice. No-one else on the staff here did that, which in itself was a blessing. Some of the places she'd been before here and the Agamemnon had been... well. Worse. The station hadn't been that bad after the first few days, except for the Lieutenant Commander. Now that Takashima had left, the station was even better.
Her replacement, a woman called Susan Ivanova, was just Vicki's kind of officer. Also a family friend. She'd served with Vicki's father on Io. As of the first day, when they'd worked together on some computer glitches in C+C, Ivanova treated Vicki like she did everyone else. She expected results, good work and orderly behaviour. Vicki and Ivanova understood each other. Maybe they weren't close friends, Ivanova hadn't been exceptionally close to Vicki's gregarious father, but they understood each other. With that, Vicki finally felt that she could face the days here. Ever since Takashima had transferred, she hadn't cried herself to sleep once.
Suddenly, she saw Commander Sinclair walk past. She remembered what she'd promised herself she'd do today. Plucking up her courage, she approached him. "Commander?" She said.
He stopped, and turned. Vicki quashed the small flutter of attraction she always felt at the sight of the Commander. He was attractive; tall, strong, a voice like silk and eyes like an angel. But he was an adult and her superior officer. She did not intend for him to ever find out about her childish crush. "Yes Sergeant?"
"I was wondering, if you had the time, if we could talk about my duties on the station."
"I'm not sure I really have the time now, what exactly did you want to discuss?"
"Well, Mister Garibaldi still insists on assigning me to menial tasks and administrative duties. I believe that I could be far more useful in some active capacity, but he refuses to listen-"
"I am very sorry Sergeant, this is a matter that needs a full discussion, and I definitely don't have time for that now. If we could meet later, we could discuss it in full then?" Vicki nodded. She knew the Commander well enough to know that he didn't make promises lightly. If he said they'd talk about it later, then they'd talk about it later.
As he left, she turned to go back to her quarters. She needed to eat and then sleep, in that order.
"Ahh, Sergeant Sheridan!" Inwardly she groaned. Ambassador Londo Mollari had a tendency to treat her even worse than Takashima when it came to snide comments about her age and her position. Ever since they had first met and she had confiscated an illegal weapon from him, he had made her life even more unpleasant. He called her a presumptuous pet mascot. She called him a drunken Centauri fool. It was a thing they had. "How are you today? Have any important meetings planned? With the insides of a computer console perhaps? Or some improperly done filing?"
"Good day Ambassador. Any important meetings with the bottom of a bottle of vodka? Or a set of Jovian dice? Or perhaps the Gaim Ambassador's aide?" Mentally, Vicki smirked at the look of embarrassment that crossed the diplomats face as she reminded him of an embarrassing potential political nightmare which she had witnessed. And saved him from, not that it made him any more tolerable. Actually it made him a little less tolerable.
"Very funny, Sergeant, very funny... you should be on stage, did anyone ever tell you that? No? Perhaps it would be a better career move than working the maintenance crew, oh, sorry, I mean, the Security crew, here."
"Really Ambassador? I thought I was doing quite well here. Confiscating illegal weapons, helping drunken diplomats out of humiliating situations, helping certain centauri dancers find their clothes..."
"Alright Sergeant. You win. I cannot match words with you today. Perhaps you would care for a drink?" Vicki shuddered at the thought. The last time she had accepted his offer, she had taken one gulp of Brivari and spent the next 4 days with a crippling hangover. Plus a concussion from where she had hit her head whilst in the process of passing out. She hadn't touched anything more chemically dangerous than soft drinks since then. She saw his brief expression of triumph at his small victory in their game of wits, when Garibaldi walked past.
Thankfully, Vicki let the Centauri nobleman torture Garibaldi for a while as she looked at some trinkets that the stall she was next to was selling. Almost unconsciously, she broke the finger of a man who had been reaching for her credit chit. Stumbling slightly and cursing quietly, the man staggered away. Vicki smirked.
"Did you hear anything?" Asked Garibaldi looking confused. Vicki turned, affixing an appropriate expression to her face.
"No sir." She turned back to the stall, again smirking. She could have arrested the man, she supposed, but since he hadn't gotten to touch her credit chit she doubted he'd get anything more than a few hours in the brig. Plus she'd get reamed for breaking his finger and station security would have to pay for him to get medical treatment. Better that he have to pay for it himself. It might discourage him from pick pocketing again.
She turned back to the two men in front of her just in time to hear; "I'm sorry, here, open my wrist."
"Centauri don't have major arteries in their wrists."
"Of course not, what do you think, I'm stupid?" She quietly snorted at that last sentence and Londo grimaced at her in sufferance, when they were approached by a very nervous looking Centauri male.
"Ambassador..."
"Ahh, Mister Garibaldi, Sergeant Sheridan, have you met my new diplomatic staff? Just arrived from the Homeworld. This is it!" He said, pointing to the poor man. Vicki instantly felt sorry for him. It wasn't easy to work for the Centauri Ambassador. She didn't even work for him and she knew that!
"A-A-Ambassador-"
"Yes, Vir, what is it?" The poor man looked like he was headed for a coronary. This, for a species with two hearts, could be a problem.
"Our colony? Ragesh 3, our agricultural colony-?"
"Yes, I know what it is, what about it?"
"It's under attack." This made Vicki ears perk up. Londo immediately looked concerned.
"Attacked? By who?"
"No one knows!"
Vicki looked at Londo again, and noticed a spasm of pain. She wondered. Did Londo know someone at the colony? The two Centauri wandered off talking heatedly, and Garibaldi scooted off too. Unable to think of anything to do to help this situation, and wanting to do something to avoid feeling useless, she decided to return to her original plan. Her quarters.
***
Vicki was bored again. A matter of state that she found herself in often. She dealt with it by dreaming. Unprofessional, perhaps, but she was rarely assigned anything that couldn't be done while she was half asleep. On the occasion that she was, she wasn't bored enough to want to dream.
This time she decided to indulge herself. The adjustment of the lighting in the changing rooms for the pilots of the Alpha wing Starfuries was so low a priority she felt that the universe owed her. She had no intention of acting on her desire but sometimes, when she'd been good or life had particularly sucked for a time, she let her mind drift to Sinclair.
Tall, muscular, with a voice like a cello. Brown hair just begging to have fingers ran through it. Eyes so deep you could fall for a millennium and still not hit the bottom. She let her body slip into autopilot, fix and fiddling with the light fixture without seeing what she was doing as she imagined Sinclair kissing her, his strong arms supporting her, tongue, long and supple and probably tasting of coffee, playing with hers, his body, lean and angular, pressed against hers...
Something nearby hit one of the benches with a thump. Vicki jumped out of her reverie, literally, and looked around.
Sinclair was standing with his back to her, preparing to get into his Starfury suit. With his shirt off.
Vicki licked her lips. Just as she had thought, he had a multitude of muscles along his back. But not too many, he had just the right amount. His shoulders were wide and strong and his back was naturally straight... Then Vicki realized that he was undoing his belt.
Despite her dreams, and the lack of knowing what his... ahem- lower parts... looked like, she had no intention of standing here staring as he undressed. Not only would she not want someone doing that to her, but also, the mental picture of a dishonourable discharge for voyeurism was flashing through her head.
"Uhh, Commander..." She said, stepping out from the corner where he'd been unable to see her. He jumped slightly and looked around. Vicki tried not to lick her lips again, or drool. His chest was perfect, slightly hairy but not a total bush, muscular but not rock hard. She forced herself, with more effort than was proper, to look Sinclair in the face. "Sorry Commander, I was fixing the light..."
"Yes, I know." Seeing the look of bewildered confusion, he added, "you put the sign up outside? That a member of the opposite gender was working maintenance in here?" Oh yeah. Now she remembered. "It's alright; I was just getting into my flight suit, I wasn't going to completely strip."
Vicki couldn't stop a nervous giggle from escaping and mentally kicked herself. She'd spent a year trying to get him and the others to take her seriously and she was going to blow it in one minute of conversation! Sinclair laughed.
"It's alright Sheridan. I'm not going to report you."
"Me sir?" Heart thundering like a rhino. "Report me for what?"
"You know." He said matter of factly, and apparently decided to leave it at that. Wondering what he'd meant, if he was just referring to her being in here as he partially undressed or if he meant her looking at him... had he noticed?... Vicki decided that a classy exit, and a fast one, was called for.
"See you later Commander." She said, about to leave, when a thought struck her. "Uhh, sir?" She asked. He turned to look at her, the undershirt for his suit in his hands. "If I may ask, where are you going?"
"Some raiders have been hitting targets closer and closer to the station. We just got some intelligence that another ship approaching the station will be hit soon, we're hoping to get there first." A light bulb went on in Vicki's head. About the same time the light she'd been working on winked out. Frowning and muttering, she went back to work on it.
As she wrestled the leads back into position, she broached a subject that she knew wasn't going to be fun. "Sir? What I said earlier, about my work-"
"Yes, I am thinking about it, and we will talk later, but this is not the best time." He didn't even sound annoyed.
"No, that's not what I mean, but it just occurred to me... How will you be able to best judge how I react in a fight unless you see it for yourself?" He looked at her, frowning in thought. She could see the thought like it was written on his face, and quickly continued. "I have almost two hundred hours of experience piloting Starfuries, I've fought in them against Minbari, Pirates and Raiders, and," seeing that he was about to interrupt, she blazed on, "since you're going, and EarthForce regulations forbid the CO of any ship or station in the Earth Alliance jurisdiction placing himself in immediate jeopardy in a Starfury when a clear, present and overwhelming danger is known to exist, then the mission can't be too dangerous, can it?" Sinclair half-smiled and half-frowned, knowing she had him by the short hairs. After a particularly emotional (and for Vicki, painful and embarrassing) discussion just after she'd arrived on the station, he'd been trying to treat her like any other officer. Forbidding her to come now would only show he still thought her incapable. Unless he could prove the danger was too great to risk sending a pilot that was unfamiliar with the other pilots in the wing. And, for the danger to be that high, Sinclair himself couldn't go, thanks to the regulation Vicki had stated. He had no choice but to...
"Agreed. But you'll stay near me at all times, no going off to investigate sensor shadows, got it?" She nodded, for once not caring that she looked eager. She was finally going to get to prove herself in fire, riding it next to the Commander, no less! "And another thing... I am going to give you your chance so I'm not going to take advantage of the first opportunity to ditch you somewhere safe, but if I tell you to hang back, retreat, or escort the liner somewhere safe, no arguing! I wouldn't let you come at all if I didn't have any trust whatsoever in your ability to handle a fight. Please trust me not to baby you. OK?" She nodded, understanding completely. On the Agamemnon, she'd done Starfury duty next to the others. She knew, if a civilian ship of any kind was involved, someone had to escort it to safety. The lives of others were paramount and far more important than the desire to impress your boss. And crush, said an internal voice. She ignored it.
"Yessir. I'll go and get ready immediately."
"Good. Meet you at the entry to the cobra bays?"
"Yessir." She practically skipped out of the room feeling like she was ten feet tall.
When she was gone, Sinclair smiled and shook his head. Any other 17 year old girl would look like that after being told she could go to a cool party. Just goes to show, everyone was different. Some were just... very different.
***
They had been riding for almost an hour with no sign of trouble. Sinclair had been worried that Sheridan would get antsy after the first ten minutes, but she held her professionalism. Except for a couple of loop-the-loops when she thought no-one was looking. He grinned. He hadn't seen her this excited about anything since... well, ever. The closest she'd come to excited that he'd seen had been the first time he asked her to translate an alien transcript. She was weird, but that was OK. His station seemed to run on weird.
"You weren't kidding when you said you knew how to fly these things." He said, knowing that Vicki had seen the looks of disbelief on the other pilots' faces when they'd seen her at the entrance to the Docking Bays. He wanted to show her that he worked on results and that she was giving them.
"Thank you sir." She said, sounding breathlessly excited. The other pilots chipped in too, their opinions on her skills all glowing. Sinclair smiled, knowing that her face was probably illuminating her cockpit by now. Suddenly his scanner board flashed.
"Look alive people, we got company." Up ahead, the transport ship was inching towards the Jump Gate. Behind them, just within scanner range, were two dozen raider ships. "Let's go!"
The fight was intense, but brief. Sheridan outdid herself, firing and manoeuvring without pause, break or even a gasp. She worked like a veteran, systematically destroying or disabling raider after raider, until two were dead and four were powerless under the onslaught of her weapons. She saved two of the other pilots from destruction and stopped a blow to the ship that would have gutted it. Not, perhaps, anything miracle-like. Except that it was a 17 year old who was doing it.
When the fight was over, two ships got away. One went right past Sheridan, who let it go. The other pilots commented on it, "Hey Sheridan, what's up?"
"You got a malfunction in your weapons system?" Not jeers or pointed insults. Honest concern and comradely support. Sinclair answered for her.
"We need to know whose arming these guys. Chances are the ones we've got alive won't tell us anything, the ones that got away are the ones that will lead us to them, figuratively speaking. Barnes, Hanford, Shnetch and Ngoro, protect the ship, escort it to its base. The rest of you, fan out and form a search pattern, scanners on full. Go to these co-ordinates," He sent a grid square to each 'Fury that would, in total, cover all the area that their goal would probably be, "and call in if you find anything. Yang and Packer, you pair. Fishe and Lorri; Gollor and Mint; Sheridan, you're with me." The 'Furies scattered, scanners buzzing. Sheridan pulled up to a trajectory parallel to Sinclair's, at the optimum distance for scanning the full grid. Quietly, he said, "excellent work Sheridan. Thank you for insisting."
"Thank you again for letting me come sir." She said, and she sounded truly sincere. Then her voice took on a professional quality. "Sir, I'm detecting something on scanners."
"Confirmed." He said, checking his board. "It's a Command and Control station! Now, maybe we'll get some answers." And the two Starfuries headed towards it, side by side.
***
Sinclair walked up to the Council Chambers, mentally making a note to have a conversation with Garibaldi later. He knew and understood Michael's position and opinion, but Sheridan was good. And desperate to show it. She deserved her shot on the station.
He entered the Chamber Hall, Sheridan and her Narn prisoner in tow, just as Ivanova said, "There is a problem Ambassador. The problem is you."
"We took down the raiders that have been attacking cargo ships in the area, found their Command and Control vessel and boarded it, where we found your friend here," At that, Sheridan encouraged her captive forward, who fell to his knees.
He promptly started to babble nervously in Narn, which was ended by G'Kar's stern "Toschk!"
"Interesting Ambassador. All he was doing was apologising for putting you in an awkward position, why would you be so determined for him to keep silent on that matter?" Asked Sheridan, tilting her head to one side. Realising that Sheridan had understood every word the Narn prisoner had said, G'Kar blanched.
Sinclair proceeded to blackmail the Narn Ambassador into agreeing to remove the Narn presence from Ragesh 3 in return for his keeping the matter of the Narns supplying the Raiders with weapons a secret.
Vicki inwardly smiled and shook her head whilst outwardly maintaining a professional veneer as she escorted the Narn to the stations' brig, her first actual arrest on the station. Sinclair could be one tricky bastard when he wanted to be. Now there's another reason to lust after him secretly.
***
"All I'm saying is, there were other pilots far more qualified-"
"Actually Sheridan is more qualified than all but 8 of the pilots on this station to ride fire. Plus she's talented..."
"I don't care Jeff!" Then more respectfully, "Commander. She's still just a kid-"
"She's 17, Michael. Not a kid anymore, by anyone's standards. And, in her case, very much an adult."
"You should have told me at the very least!"
"Well fine, the next time I want to argue pointlessly about something, I'll give you a call!" Garibaldi huffed and puffed in annoyance as they continued to make their way down the corridor. "Now, are you going to assign her to a beat?"
Garibaldi was silent for a moment. Then, "No. Not yet!" He added, as Sinclair opened his mouth angrily. "I will start moving in that direction, but I still ain't sure she can handle herself in a fist fight. And I'm not gonna throw her in one, just to see how she does! But, I won't completely not consider the eventual possibility either." Sinclair recognized the tone of finality and gave it a rest. The rest of the way to his office, he and Garibaldi talked about the events of the day.
***
Vicki wandered through the Zoccolo again, for once not cursing the throngs of people invading her private space. She was still buzzing in happiness about her triumph in the Squadron. She had been clapped on the back and congratulated by the other pilots after disembarking from her 'Fury and the look on Sinclair's face as he commended her prowess was something she'd fantasize about for a while. Plus bringing in the Narn for processing, and the resultant look on Garibaldi's face, were also both going to be memories she'd treasure for a long time.
She entered the tube, and moved over when another woman slid in next to her. She took in the appearance of the woman and, with a slight jolt, recognized the Psi Corps badge. She put her mental shields up.
The woman looked distracted for a moment, then looked over at Sheridan. She quickly looked back to her front again.
"It's alright," said Sheridan, feeling the need to reassure her that she didn't loath her for her talent. "It's not that I hate telepaths, it's just a habit I picked up during the War that I never got rid of."
"Oh, alright." Said the woman, smiling. Vicki smiled back, liking the woman already. There was an air of tranquillity around her. "I'm Talia Winters, licensed commercial telepath."
"Victoria Sheridan, EarthForce Sergeant." She said, shaking the woman's hand. She noticed the look of surprise on Winters' face, but she surprisingly didn't comment, or look disbelieving. Instead she continued to look thoughtful.
"Penny for your thoughts? Since I do need to buy them?" She asked, startling a laugh out of her blond companion.
"It's nothing, it's just... I just had an upsetting conversation with Lieutenant Commander Ivanova." Vicki nodded.
"Yes, she can throw people sometimes, can't she? Old friend of my dad's." She added in answer to Winters' look. "He told me about her and I met her twice before she was transferred here. I understand she... dislikes... the Psi Corps."
"Yes. She told me why."
"I'm afraid I was never privy to that information. I think she told my Dad, but he simply called it 'strong personal reasons' and left it at that. Other than her distaste for the Corps, what did you think of her?"
"Very... efficient. Mistakable for cold, but I saw it in her eyes, she's not an unemotional person in and of itself, she's just... strong. A mystery. One I'd like to solve." Winters added the last part quietly, almost to herself. Vicki nodded. Perhaps, if Ivanova could swallow her Psi-Corps-hatred, she might have something here. Something good.
As the tube began to slow, Winters turned to Vicki. "I have to admit, you're not what I expected at all."
"Oh? You knew about me?" This was news.
"Not knew, as such, but Mister Garibaldi mentioned you when I spoke to him earlier."
"Would it be entirely rude if I asked what he said?"
Winters looked embarrassed for a moment, and then, just as the tube came to a stop, she said, "he called you a cold fish."
The tube doors opened and Winters got out, muttering her goodbyes. As did Vicki, distracted. Cold fish? She wasn't a cold fish! Sure, she'd been quiet for her first year here, trying to show that she was professional, but she wasn't actually cold! Her father had referred to her on the Agamemnon as his 'wild card'. That wasn't an apt side description of a cold fish, now was it?
Then Vicki continued to think. Actually, she had been colder than was perhaps necessary. Her desperation to avoid the same pains she'd encountered before had lead her to stay in her quarters when she wasn't working, shopping or having a monthly medical check-up. She never saw him at the last two. And at work, she and Garibaldi never talked about anything other than paperwork. He hadn't instigated a conversation. But then, neither had she.
As the tube started to move again, Vicki continued to brood. She remembered the elated feeling she'd gotten when the pilots accepted her. It hadn't just been pride at her accomplishment or elation that they knew she was capable and respected her. It was happiness at being accepted. Perhaps, in trying to protect herself, she'd actually made a mistake. Maybe she should rethink her internal emotion shield thing.
The doors opened to her floor and Vicki stepped off, her thoughts travelling to Miss Winters. The tall, statuesque woman would bear watching, like all important people, but seemed nice enough. Possibly a friend. As she continued to her quarters her thoughts strayed, as they always did when she thought of the psi corps, to her first love. Adam.
***
Wednesday 2nd March 2258.
***
Vicki tried not to arch her back while she waited for the lift to arrive. She'd been on her hands and knees all day, checking the circuits in the Security Hub for faulty wiring. There'd been odd spitting noises all morning, and she thought it meant a loose filament. She hadn't found anything, which lead her to the conclusion that she'd gone stir crazy.
About two weeks ago, she'd accompanied Commander Sinclair on a Starfury mission to stop raiders from hitting a ship full of refugees. He had commended her and the other pilots in the squadron had complimented her and they had all treated her as one of the team. The Commander still nodded to her every time they passed in the hall, and the pilots would raise their drinks to her when she passed their evening meal at Earhart's on her way to her quarters every night. But her superior, Michael Garibaldi, still insisted on treating her like a child.
She would be 18 in under two months, and he still acted like she was a kid whose parents were being indulgent by treating her like an adult. He had, apparently, told the Commander that he would be 'working towards' giving her more active responsibilities. If anything, he'd given her less and less important or difficult work. The kind of things she was doing now included fixing whatever broke on the station, delivering messages or data crystals and cleaning. Cleaning!
She would have quit long ago, if Sheridan stubbornness wasn't as strong as it was. As such, she felt she had to stay, at least until she figured out what to do. She probably would have gone back to the Commander again, except that she'd already complained once and he'd spoken to Garibaldi. If she complained again, it would look bad, not to mention it would stress the Commander.
The doors to the lift opened, and Vicki found herself looking at a familiar, dark skinned face. "Doctor Franklin?"
The man looked confused for a moment, then he looked like he was struggling to remember something, then his face cleared. "Vicki, right? Vicki Sheridan! Well! I haven't seen you in... how long's it been?"
"Almost 7 years." She grinned. The doctor had been one of the rare people before Babylon 5 who didn't work for one of her parents and still treated her like an adult. She'd nearly loved him for that.
"This is great- How've you been? How's Ajiiz? Still setting the medical community on fire with his Hippocratic rants?"
Vicki laughed. "Well, I haven't had a direct message from him for a while, but from what I gather, yes! There was some issue a few years ago when he discovered one of the doctors he was working with regularly participated in betting pools for dog fighting, he had the man fired and his medical license revoked! He also managed to get the institution that ran the ring shut down." Franklin nodded, his eyes shining with approval. Vicki agreed- dog fighters were horrendous people. She'd been so proud of her friend when he'd collared the people behind it. "What about you?"
"Oh, just been here and there, nowhere special. That's about to change." Vicki raised her eyebrows.
"Don't tell me... You're the new MedBay supervisor!? Cool!" At least he probably wouldn't get on her case about her weight, like the last doctor had.
They shared a lift going to their respective levels. In comfortable silence, Vicki considered the man standing next to her.
Stephen Franklin was one of the few people who fought for medical ethics with such fanaticism as her old war buddy Ajiiz Latam. Franklin had actually taught the scrub-headed youth for a while in Advanced Xenobiology. Ajiiz had been glowing in his praise for his teacher. He'd worshipped the man.
Franklin and Vicki had actually met before that. During the War, her father had been sent to a remote planet, near where this station was subsequently built actually, where he met with a Minbari called Lennon who wanted peace. The meeting had been a bust, as yet unknown parties firing on the site from above and killing Lennon. One of his father's companions had been Doctor Stephen Franklin.
When her father got back to Earth, after his briefing, he'd brought Stephen home with him for a dinner. He'd met Vicki and they'd spent the night arguing about Xenobiology while her father looked lost. The next day he'd met the rest of her squadron and made arrangements to teach Ajiiz some of the things universities and med schools didn't teach kids about Alien Medicine that he'd learnt while hitch-hiking on star ships. It had been a regret of her life that she'd never had the opportunity to work alongside the man and cultivate a real friendship with him. Now, apparently, that was going to change.
***
Vicki picked up some processed meat and some bread. She then dithered for a moment and made her mind up, picking up a very small bottle of wine. She was having dinner with Stephen tonight in her quarters and she was cooking. Unlike her father, she knew how to do something with food other than torture it 'til it died.
She had just finished her purchases when she realised her exit was blocked by two Drazi. She recognized one of them as the Drazi ambassador's aide. "May I help you?" She asked, inwardly groaning. The Drazi's abilities in grammar were legendary. Or, at least, the fact that they had none was anyway.
"You are security, yes?" Said the aide, briskly. She affirmed this, wondering if their enquiry would take too long. She wanted to get back to her quarters soon. "We hear of evil creature in your MedBay. We want it gone!"
"Evil creature? I'm afraid you're going to have to be a bit more specific than that." For all she knew, he was referring to Stephen. The man's obsession with ethics could occasionally bruise the ego of undiplomatic people... like the Drazi.
"You know of what we speak! We want it gone!" The Drazi practically shouted and his comments were met by affirmatives on all sides. Vicki realized that the crowd was getting larger, and was made up exclusively of non-humans. Something had rattled them. Big time.
"OK, tell you what, I'll relay you wishes to my superior. I'm sure if this... whatever it is has got you this worried, he'll be only too happy to accommodate you." The aliens nodded and began to move away. She waited until the crowd was sufficiently dispersed, then toggled her link. "Sheridan to Garibaldi."
"Garibaldi here, go."
"I just had an unusual conversation with a crowd of aliens in the Zoccolo. They said something about wanting the 'evil creature' in MedBay gone. They were pretty scared about whatever it is. Any ideas?"
"Yeah, we got an alien in there. Ambassador Delenn called it a 'Shag Tot'. A Minbari phrase, apparently it means-"
"Soul Hunter." Interrupted Vicki, translating the term in her mind. "So, what's the deal? These guys ally themselves with the Dilgar or something?"
"According to Delenn, they steal the souls of important people who are dying. Yeah, I know," both he and Sheridan were sceptical, "I don't believe the hype either. But the aliens defiantly do. So, the moment he recovers, we're shipping him out."
"Roger that, sir. Sheridan out."
***
Vicki shuffled her bags around, managing to tap the console for the transport tube with her little finger. She was tired, and looking forward to dinner with Stephen and then bed. The days were getting more and more lengthy.
The doors slid open, revealing the Minbari Ambassador. She looked up, saw the struggling Sergeant, and reached out to help her with the bags. After a few moments, the two of them settled in the lift. "Good to see you Ambassador." Said Vicki politely.
Delenn nodded, bowing her head slightly in a gesture of greeting. "And you Sergeant. How has your job been recently?"
"Not too bad. You?"
"As you say, not too bad." She seemed distracted.
"I heard that you were the one who identified the alien in MedBay. Mister Garibaldi said that you called it a 'soul hunter'. Do you mean to say that it actually steals people's souls?" Vicki asked, unable to keep the scepticism out of her voice. Delenn seemed to hear it.
"Yes, it does. Do you not believe this?"
"Hey, I'm not saying anything about right and wrong information. I just don't believe in souls." Delenn looked taken aback.
"Almost every human I've spoken to about the subject believes in souls in some way. Do you truly not?"
"Well, not in the way people usually define them. I don't believe that anything 'happens' to us after death or anything. I don't believe that people can have a 'spiritual' connection, or that someone's 'being' can call out to another's in any way. I do realize that, in order to have produced art and music, in order to feel unconditional love for someone who is not your biological child or your parent, in order to dream and create things like this station there must be something to life other than a simple pulse beat. But the idea of something in us being eternal... No. Not in my opinion, at least. Everything dies, in order to renew and create what comes afterwards. The next lot of life. Minds die, just like bodies. I don't believe that any part of us truly lives forever, nor do I believe that any species could steal this so called eternal part of us."
Delenn looked at her, in the way that all people with religious faith looked at the non religious. Vicki waited for the tube to stop, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. Religious people could sometimes get to her. She had science and maths and that was enough for her. She didn't need faith for anything.
***
Great. More paperwork. At this rate, they'd be able to paper the hull of the station with her paperwork. She had paper cuts and ink stains on her hands (and boy did it sting when they were in the same place!). She'd had everything set up for her dinner with Stephen when Garibaldi had called her and asked for her help. Some stupid prat had deleted some data crystals and the information was highly important. Don't worry, though, nobody panic, it's on paper! But it needed to be in the system, so could she come back to work for a few hours and do that?!
Hell no. Absolutely! She was hoping that if she didn't complain about the menial work he assigned her to all the time, he would assign her to more important work. She was hoping. It hadn't worked yet.
Just then, Garibaldi got a call over the comm. unit. "Garibaldi, there's another one of these Soul Hunter ships. Its pilot is coming aboard to talk to Sinclair. Get down to the docking bay and give him some backup!"
"With what!?" Said Garibaldi, exasperated. "I don't have anyone here! They're almost all out with that virus that's been going around, they're still in quarantine!"
"What about Sheridan?" Garibaldi glared at the screen. Behind his back, Vicki smirked. She knew Ivanova was on her side!
"Alright. We'll be right there." He signed off and turned around to face her. She smiled sweetly. He smiled sarcastically. "Let's go."
***
Vicki had accompanied her gruff superior to the Docking Bays, a silent shadow the whole way. She was determined to do this right.
She'd resisted the urge to roll her eyes when Garibaldi complained that Sinclair putting himself in danger 'cut into his business'. Typical Garibaldi.
She'd resisted the urge to openly scrutinize the so called 'Soul Hunter' when he arrived. And when he said that he could feel someone was going to die.
When the others realized Delenn was missing, however, she began to lose the control on her control.
"Well, where would your brother go to do this?" She demanded of the tall alien before her, after a brief search of Delenn quarters revealed she wasn't there.
"I do not know. I am not familiar with this station-"
"Here! You say you can sense death, that you're drawn to death, well show me!" Sinclair almost shouted, pointing to the wall. Vicki craned her head to look at a panel showing a map of the station. The Soul Hunter muttered about death and the moment, his hand hovering over the panel.
Suddenly he pointed, saying "Quickly! Here! Here!" Sinclair, Garibaldi and Vicki ran off towards the armoury. As they neared a transport tube, Vicki had to ask a few questions.
"Sir, what exactly are we going to do?"
"We're going to go there and find Delenn and this Soul Hunter and we're going to stop this nonsense of his."
"By any means necessary?"
"Absolutely." She nodded. That was all she needed to know.
Ten minutes later, the three of them and four other officers were arming up. Vicki could see Garibaldi visually measuring her as a potential combatant. She knew he wasn't happy about her participating in an actual fight, but he didn't have too much of a choice. The life of a woman was at stake, an Ambassador no less. He couldn't afford the luxury of doubt.
They split up; Garibaldi with another Sergeant, Zack Allan; Morishi with Garibaldi's aide Jack Collins; Welch with Vicki and Sinclair on his own. She resisted the urge to point out regulations. She knew he wouldn't listen.
Vicki was looking between storage boxes when she heard the sounds of a struggle from back where Sinclair had gone. She looked around wildly. Welch had walked down the corridor a bit to continue the search; she couldn't alert him without alerting the assailant too. Making her mind up, she turned around and followed the sounds of fists hitting flesh. She raced as quickly and quietly as she could to where the noises were coming from and caught a few fragmented words- "Help-" "Satai-" "Using-"
She rounded a corner seconds later, only to stop in her tracks. A being she could only assume was the first Soul Hunter was standing before her, his hands raised in front of him in a partly defensive partly pleading gesture. Several glowing balls were floating in front of him, apparently talking to him. At least, he was talking back; begging them to understand. Suddenly there was sound in the corner of room, and Sheridan looked around to see Sinclair crouched at the side of Ambassador Delenn. There was some kind of machine over her with a glass ball in the centre. In the second it took for Vicki to take this in, she could swear that she could see something in the glass ball, like a reflection of Ambassador Delenn, though it wasn't positioned in a way that it would catch her face. It almost seemed to speak to her... Suddenly the machine began shooting a light of some kind at the semi conscious Minbari.
Sinclair grabbed the instrument and turned it around, so it faced the Soul Hunter. Who began to waver. As she watched, some kind of light streamed out of his body and into the glass ball and he collapsed. The glass ball seemed to whisper again for a few seconds. This time, it sounded different, if sounded could be the right term. Vicki stared for several seconds. What had she just seen?
Then, she heard stirring, and looked around to see Delenn moving weakly. Then she saw the blood. "Holy frag!" She said, much too flustered to bother watching her mouth. As Sinclair gently spoke to the Ambassador, reassuring her that help was on the way and she was alright, Vicki toggled her link and contacted the MedBay and the rest of the Security officers who were with them. All the time, her mind wasn't on her work. It was on what she had seen. Vicki had never believed in souls before. She had been comfortable in the knowledge that either science or math was behind everything, could explain everything. But science couldn't explain this.
***
Four hours later, Vicki entered MedBay, looking around. Stephen was in his office. He had agreed happily to reschedule their dinner to the following evening. Again, Vicki was looking forward to it. Sinclair had presumably left for his office, after commending her again on doing the duty given to her admirably. No-one else was present. Except for Delenn, who was lying on one of the MedBay beds, her hands folded on top of the sheet covering her in a triangle. Vicki hesitated, not wanting to disturb the older woman's meditations.
"It is alright, Sergeant." Said Delenn, without opening her eyes. "I am awake."
Vicki decided not to say that she had been worried about something else and approached the Ambassador. "I am sorry for the intrusion Delenn, I just wanted to say... I think you were right." Delenn looked at her.
"When Sinclair and the Soul Hunter were fighting, when Sinclair killed it, I saw... I don't know. Something. Something I can't put into words. Something that I've never seen before." Delenn smiled knowingly. Vicki smiled back. Then she remembered. "Oh yes, Sinclair told me to give this to you." Vicki out the Soul Hunters bag onto the sheet. The glowing orbs were still lolling around in their prison. Now that she wasn't thinking so much, she could almost hear something, the same something she'd semi heard before... Voices. Quiet, low, nearly silent. She looked into Delenn's eyes and saw contentment. Confidence. Faith. She put Delenn's hands on the bag. "I think you should be the one to free them. Seems only right."
Vicki turned to go but stopped as Delenn said, "wait." She turned around, looking at the reclined diplomat. "I think... you should be with me. I think it would help."
"Help what?"
"My people live their lives filled with faith. Not just the religious caste; our Workers have faith, as do our Warriors. We have always found it hard to believe that some other species or individuals of other species could live without any solid foundation of belief in something... more. Whether a god or simply an unidentifiable higher being. We believe that faith in religious beliefs of any kind is what makes sentient life something other than, as you say, a pulse beat. It gives our lives meaning and purpose. Your life, I feel, has lacked such purpose recently. Perhaps gaining some faith in something, even if only in the existence of the soul, may help you find what you've lost."
Vicki frowned in confusion and then looked at Delenn. Her eyes were as steady as always. As trustable.
"OK." She said.