"How does it know?" Garabaldi asked, curious as he watched the Vorlon ship
Sheridan leaned closer to his security chief to answer; unwilling to look away from the ship for even a moment. "The same reason our scanners indicated one alien life form when Kosh wasn't around." The station's captain stood a little straighter as he continued to speak. "It's what we've suspected all along, but could never prove….the Vorlons use organic technology." Sheridan's voice dropped just a little quieter as he said, "It's a living ship…" a smile grew on his face, "Conscious, and aware."
It was early in the shift when the door to Docking Bay 13 slid open to admit a cart full of cleaning supplies, pushed by a figure in the uniform of the Babylon-5 maintenance staff. The cart came further into the docking bay, halting a little way on the bridge that lead to the Vorlon ship.
Docking Bay 13 was deserted, as was usual. The Vorlon ambassador would not release any information on his ship; so there were no mechanics to check, maintain, or repair it. All of the maintenance staff refused to work in the docking bay with the Vorlon ship in dock at the same time, so the bay was empty of everything but the ship that it cradled.
Well, all of the maintenance staff save one.
The maintenance personnel, an average looking woman with an easy smile on her face, reached for some of her cleaning supplies. As she collected them, she called a friendly greeting over her shoulder. "How was your week?" she asked.
There was no audible answer to the question.
She began cleaning the bay, talking as she did so. "So, I understand that you had some visitors the other day? The station's main four, huh? What did you think of them?" There was a small noise in the bay, a soft, humming sound. "You like them that much, really?" To all appearances, the maintenance woman seemed to be talking to herself.
She continued to move around the bay, checking to verify that certain things were working properly and if any needed to be reported for repair. Pulling out a soft cloth, the woman began to wipe down the code pads for the door lock. Her head suddenly whipped around to look at the Vorlon ship that rested in the dock behind her. Staring hard at the ship, she uttered a soft, "No, really? What happened then?" Whatever she was waiting to hear….whatever had happened remained unknown, as there was no other sound heard in the docking bay area.
A period of time passed, as the station staff was busy with cleaning, all the while apparently carrying on a conversation with herself.
After a while, she threw the dirty mopping pad into the trash bin attached to the cleaning cart. "Well," she said to the empty bay, "it's going to take some time for that to dry completely, and I'm off-shift before that happens; so we can enjoy ourselves now." She looked around the empty docking bay. "Mind if I get closer and sit down? There's nothing to rest against over here; and I don't want to have to sit all the way by the door, or worry about losing my balance and tumbling over the side of the docking bridge if I can avoid it. What do you say, hhmm?" It was unclear exactly what she was expecting to occur, but it seemed to have done so as she grinned brightly and practically chirped out "Thanks" before plopping herself down onto the deck; crossing her legs beneath her Indian-style and scooting close enough to the Vorlon ship to lean against its side.
"Now," she said to the air around her, "I believe it was your turn to go first…"
A while later, a very tired Ivanova found herself walking in the direction of Docking Bay 13. This was not a good idea, even if it did not quite qualify as a bad one. She should be headed towards her quarters, a hot shower, and a good night's sleep in that order; not going to stare at an alien starship. For pity's sake, more than half of what she did in C &C involved her staring at alien ships. So, why was she not walking towards her quarters? Ivanova sighed as her mind answered her own question. She was going to stare at the Vorlon ship, not just any starship. For some reason, on the days that ground themselves into her skin, days that wore at her like she was a stick dragged through sand; standing there just watching Ambassador Kosh's ship could empty and calm her mind. Looking at it as the patterns on the ship's skin changed was somehow like trying to watch flowers bloom. You kept looking on as nothing happened, and then you would realize that, mysteriously, it had happened while you were watching without you realizing exactly when.
With another small sigh, Ivanova reached down and keyed in the access code for the docking bay, waiting for the door to open.
The ship was resting in its berth, exactly as expected. What was not expected, what-if you had asked Ivanova earlier, couldn't have been expected-was the sight of a maintenance worker scrambling quickly up to her feet from where she had been sitting LEANING UP AGAINST THE VORLON SHIP. That ship had threatened the Captain earlier that week for merely coming to close to it as if he had wanted to try to touch it; and now there was a cleaning lady sitting there, curled up next to it singing?
"I'm sorry, Commander," the cleaning lady was saying, offering a belated salute with a rueful look on her smiling face. "I just…I didn't expect anyone to come in here."
"At ease," Ivanova said automatically, her mind still trying to wrap itself around what she had seen just moments before. "Who are you and what exactly are you doing here? Docking Bay 13 is supposed to be quarantined."
"Oh, it is, ma'am," the cleaning lady said, "however, some routine cleaning and maintenance for the bay to identify any problems before they may interfere with the Ambassador or his ship still has to be done. It's always scheduled for last shift of the day, once a week."
Ivanova gave her a suspicious look and tried not to show how confused she was by what was going on in the bay. "This docking bay was quarantined because maintenance teams refused to work in it anymore, as long as the ship was docked," she said.
"That's true, ma'am," the maintenance woman admitted. Giving a grin she continued, "except for me. It doesn't bother me to be here." Looking at the commander standing in front of her, she added, "It seems it doesn't bother you either."
Nodding her head slightly, Ivanova showed her agreement with the statement. "That still doesn't answer what you are doing here. Last shift ended twenty minutes ago. Not to mention why you were close enough to the ship that you were touching it, and I can't possibly fathom why the singing…"
The woman looked at the floor for a moment, making Ivanova think of a child scuffing their feet when they had been caught raiding the cookie jar. "Do you know the reason that the other workers will not work here, why they don't even come in here if there is any way for them to avoid it?" she asked, still looking at the floor.
"Yes," the commander said, not certain what that had to do with the question she had asked earlier, "the workers claimed that the Vorlon ship was talking to them; that it would talk to them while they were asleep and dreaming." She watched the cleaning lady closely, wondering what her response would be to the information.
"Well, dreams are the easiest way for it to reach someone," the maintenance woman told her with a sigh. "Most people don't do well when a ship tries to chat with them in their dreams, though. The thing is, commander…anyone can become lonely, and when they do….they try to reach out to others, if they can. And I…I never minded becoming friends with someone…unexpected," she said, delicately. "If you ask your friends nicely before you start crowding into their space, sometimes they don't mind being touched. Sometimes they do." She shrugged as she made the statement. "My folks brought me up that the polite thing to do was ask first."
"And the singing?" demanded Ivanova, "What about that?"
The maintenance staff smiled. "We like to sing. Duets are out…I don't know any Vorlon songs…it can't sing human ones, but we enjoy it."
"You mean to tell me that the Vorlon ambassador's ship sings?" Ivanova said, waving a hand in the ship's direction, her expression skeptical.
The woman grinned at her. "Why would I tell you something that you have already heard about?" Her eyes softened slightly at the worry on the senior staff's face. Taking pity on the already stressed out officer, she leaned a little closer to the commander as she walked past her; just close enough for Ivanova to hear her as she spoke quietly into the air of the docking bay.
"No one notices maintenance personnel…especially the odd ones, commander. No one cares…if we sing while we work."