I do not own the characters of Babylon 5, or the universe they live in. I have only borrowed them for a short time. They belong to the Time Warner Entertainment Co., LP. All original characters and situations are the property of the author.
No harm was intended, nor profit made from this story. So please don't sue me.
Author's Note:
The idea for this story came to me before I saw any of the 5th season (it follows the story line until then). I finally edited it enough for it to be posted.
It is the beginning of series. Let me know if you want me to finish it.
Captain Mark Simpson swore under his breath. He hated this station. He had only been posted hear for two months and he had all ready had to deal with seven assassination attempts, two attempted bombings and the disappearance of an ambassador.
Well, at least it hadn't all gone to hell…yet.
It was to be expected really, this was Babylon 5, after all. Home, at least for now, of the head of government of the new interstellar alliance.
Personally, Simpson did not think that the Alliance of Free Worlds had much of a chance. It was ambitious, and far-fetched. It could solve most of the problems that was to come, and that was exactly why it would not survive. It was too good to be true, so, Mark decided, it wasn't. All the publicity was just that, publicity. It was the same type of publicity that surrounded the renowned John Sheridan.
Simpson did not like Sheridan, he was hard to figure out, one moment he was bubbly and optimistic to the point of being annoying, the next, he was dark and gloomy. And he had a bad habit of smiling when he thought no one was looking. Just the thought of Sheridan's smile made Simpson shiver. It was a smile that was full of hope for the future, but had a sad edge that cut deep.
But what Simpson really didn't like about the new Alliance was the First Lady. She was too longsighted, too involved, and too different. And she was Minbari. To Simpson that was all that needed to be said. The way a Minbari's mind worked was not to be trusted. Take the First Lady's assistant, Lennier.
Lennier, the target of one of the assassination attempts, was the most baffling creatures Simpson had ever encountered. Simpson couldn't figure him out, him or any other Minbari for that matter. Simpson didn't like anything he couldn't figure out.
"Captain!" the urgent voice of his Communications Officer brought Simpson out of his reverie.
He looked up from the frustrating supply run schedules and clipped, "What now?"
"It's a distress signal, Sir, from the Acheron"
There was something in the young woman's voice that further annoyed Simpson. A respectful awed quality that Simpson some how knew had never been used in connection to him.
"Let me see it," Simpson growled, whirling off the top platform to the main deck and facing the screen.
"It's audio only, Sir," there was something in her voice that made him feel like he should have known that if they were sending out a distress signal they did not have visual.
Before Simpson could growl anymore the sound of a female voice filled C&C.
"…of the Star Ship Acheron. We've been hit by several raiders. Our hyperderive is out and the COM system is failing." As if to stress the point the signal crackled out, leaving nothing but static. After a moment the static ebbed and Simpson could hear the Captain again. "…56 hours at max burn left and are in an active raider area. Repeat, this is Captain Ivanova of the Acheron requesting emergency assistance." After that the COM system failed entirely.
There was something in the way she said the last three words that told Simpson that she hated to say them.
A chilling smile spread across his face before Simpson started clipping orders. "Send a tow," and then as an after thought he added, "and a Starfury Detachment."
Simpson's smile continued to grow as he headed for his office, ignoring the bustle of activity that he left in his wake as his subordinates prepared for the return of the 'Right Hand of Vengeance' and former second officer of Babylon 5.
Communications Officer Tanya Kay looked puzzled at the door the Captain had just walked through as it whirred shut. The Starfury's would be useless if they didn't have an escort to make a jump point to get them back into normal space. But then the Captain did not know that. He had not asked where the signal was coming from, or if the transmission had been properly encoded, witch in had, to insure authenticity. This could be viewed as an acknowledgement of her skill, but Tanya doubted it, more likely he hadn't thought of it.
Tanya shrugged, it was not her job to decide what her commanding officer did or did not think. It was her job to make sure that his orders where carried out. But that didn't mean she couldn't add to them.
Tanya tapped the consul in front of her, not allowing herself time to think what the Captain would do if he heard what she was doing.
After a moment the Babcom screen in front of her was filled with the kind face of the First Lady's assistant, Lennier. Tanya liked Lennier, the times she had had to deal with him he was kind and polite.
He smiled as he saw her, "Communications Officer Kay, what may I do for you?"
"We just got a distress signal and I was hoping that you would be able to help with the rescue operation," she said.
"Of course," he replied. "If you send me the co-ordinates I will send the nearest WhiteStar."
"I'm sending the co-ordinates through now. The Captain has a Starfury Squadron to help, if the WhiteStar would rendezvous with them in hyperspace they will be at the jump-out point to give assistance."
The quiet smile that spread across Lennier's face told Tanya that he knew that the Captain had not requested the Alliances' help. "Of course."
"Lennier," Tanya said hesitantly before he could break the connection. "The ship, it's the…" she hesitated for a moment, not sure what to say, then just braved ahead, "It's the Acheron."
The look on Lennier's face changed, his eyes darkening as the smile slid from his face.
"I will get right on it," Lennier's voice was quiet as he broke the connection.
Ivanova sighed as the door whirred shut behind her. She was not having a good day.
Raiders had hit them three times in the last twenty-four hours, the last attack leaving them all but dead in the water. The fact that they still had their guns was the only thing that kept Ivanova from spacing every last raider she found.
Not even bothering to turn on the lights, Ivanova made a beeline for her cupboard. She preferred her cabin dark; it hid the fact that there was no furniture to trip over.
With practised ease, she opened up the doors of the cupboard, reached in and pulled out the half empty bottle of vodka. She unscrewed the cap with one hand as she reached for a glass with the other.
As she went to pour the clear liquid she paused. She was off duty, and she did have a ready supply of Oxy pills, but the pills took time to work, and they where stranded in raider infected space with nowhere to run.
Swearing she recapped the bottle and slammed it back into the cupboard.
"Lights," she snapped, wondering what she was going to do now.
The illumination of her quarters revealed that there was only one peace of furniture in the room that wasn't Earth Force issue. It was a waste high cabinet in one corner. The finely crafted titanium surface looked like it was intricately carved red wood. She had bought it on a whim, and it had cost her a pretty penny, but it could be exposed to space and survive, so at least it was functional.
Ivanova forcefully pulled her eyed from the cabinet, staring down at the dull grey counter top.
Just like my life, she thought, flat, uninteresting and grey.
She knew the day that the colors left her life. It was the day she woke up to fined Markus dead beside her.
The colors where even fading from her memories. Only a few remained. The red of the roses he had bought her. The yellow and green of the battle charts she had studied over his shoulder, enveloped in his sent.
The incredible blue of his eyes.
Ivanova quickly pushed herself away from the counter, closing her mind's eye to the image.
Before she knew what she was doing she was standing in front of the cabinet, her hand pressed on a smooth black panel on the top as it scanned her palm print. Before she could stop herself she was speaking the words that unlocked it, "We stand on the bridge and no one may cross."
Ivanova swallowed hard as the top of the cabinet slid sideways. She struggled between the want to slam the top shut on the cabinet then running across the room to the peaceful oblivion of the vodka, and the need to finish what she had started to ease the tension between her shoulder blades.
The tension won.
The top finished sliding away, revealing the dark interior.
She reached slowly into the cabinet, her hands shaking slightly as she pulled a black bundle out. Ivanova carefully placed the bundle on the shelf created by the open lid. It was Marcus's black cloak, held together by his belt. It had been given to her when she had left Babylon 5. It was all he had, all he had left behind, this bundle and memories.
The only color was the Ranger pin on the lapel and the collapsed Minbari fighting pike that dangled from the belt. Ivanova ran her fingers over the pin. The silver was cold and smooth, as was the multicoloured stone.
It seemed fitting some how that his pin should be as cold as he was. A violent shiver ran threw Ivanova as she thought of Markus laying cold in the cryobed. Her hand rapped around the pin, warming it, as hot tears tracked down her cheeks.
Images flashed threw her mind. Marcus's face the first time he saw her. Marcus showing her the chart of where he fit into her world. Marcus looking at her, saying his Minbari 'greatening,' You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Marcus's face, full of pain and sorrow, looking down at her when she had been hurt, when she had been dying.
Letting out an audible sob, she let go of the pin. She reached for the staff on the belt with both hands, and unclipped it.
It rested in her upturned palms like and an offering. She walked to the centre of the room, knelt down and rocked back on to her haunches.
"Marcus," She whispered, her consciousness drawing deeper into herself.
After that Ivanova did not think, her body just reacted to training she had never had. She knew what was happening, that Marcus's life force was resurging, that the part of him that was now part of her was resurfacing, taking control of her body. Ivanova wouldn't mine this if it weren't for the dreams.
Now she just let her body move, let the now extended staff cut through the air.