Chapter 7: Super Collider
It just wasn't fair. Ivanova narrowed her eyes as she watched the Minbari cruiser carrying Lennier activate the jump gate and leap into hyperspace. Left behind again. Everyone else was off gallivanting through the galaxy doing something and she was stuck at home babysitting. Those on duty in C&C were conscientiously avoiding her glare. Everyone here had learned to stay out of her way when her ire was up. She frowned. Since no one here was being foolish enough to give her the opportunity to vent her frustration, she decided she might as well go be frustrated at some paperwork. "I'll be in the Captain's Office if anyone needs me," she said to the room. Lieutenant Corwin's eyes flicked in her direction; no one else's head so much as twitched.
As she turned the corner in the hallway she ran straight into an equally frustrated Garibaldi. "Damn it Michael, are you trying to kill me?" she practically exploded. She knew it wasn't fair, but it felt good to let off a little stream.
"We need to talk," he said through his teeth.
"Do I need to be on the floor to do that, or can we have one of those civilized conversations where we sit it chairs?" she sniped back.
Garibaldi glared at her as he gave her a hand up. "Very funny."
"Who's laughing?" she grumbled, rubbing a sore elbow. Garibaldi did not look amused. "Fine," she sighed, giving up. "Step into my parlor." Ivanova gestured to the Captain's office.
As soon as she had crossed the threshold the Chief of Security turned on her. "Nightwatch is taking over station security. On President Clark's orders."
"What?!" Ivanova looked slightly stunned.
"I want them stopped. They can't just waltz in here and take my team away from me!"
"Wait…wait, wait!" She threw her hands up. "What exactly do you want me to do about it?"
"Kick the whole lot of them off station," Garibaldi said emphatically.
Ivanova shook her head. "How—no, never mind. Listen to yourself for just a minute, Michael. If they're really acting under orders from Clark, what do you think is going to happen to us when we go up against them? Do you really think EarthGov will just stand by and let us do whatever we please?"
Garibaldi looked incensed. "I thought this was the whole point of our 'Conspiracy of Light', or whatever the hell the Captain is calling it. Stand up to Clark and his new-born Gestapo."
"Yes, but it's a conspiracy, not a revolution. I'm Russian; I ought to know the difference. I promised Captain Sheridan I'd keep this place in one piece while he was gone. That does not include getting all of us court-martialed."
"I know it goes against the grain, but if we don't do something about this, there won't be much left for the Captain to come back to."
Ivanova rubbed her forehead. She could feel a headache coming on. "How many members of Nightwatch there are on station? Do you even have a plan for this?"
Garibaldi leaned in closer, a smirk appearing on his face. "Well, I did have a little chat with G'kar…"
The bridge of the White Star was bathed in the red light of hyperspace. Marcus had wedged himself into an open panel in order to have a polite discussion with some of the wiring there. "Really, the nerve of her. What do I look like, a delivery boy?" he complained.
He shook his head and pulled a bundle of filament loose. "Oh, I know. I know exactly how you feel. Drug out here and then…" He paused as he tugged out another bundle, "…abandoned." He looked over his work for a moment, and then started haphazardly connecting wires.
"Used! Used like a piece of machinery," he went on angrily. There was a large spark as he crossed the last two wires and he winced as it singed his eyebrows. The lights went out. "Damn."
Marcus groped for a relay in the darkness. He reconnected it and circuitry began coming on one panel at a time. In a matter of moments the bridge was fully lit again. "Ha!" he cried to no one in particular as he pulled himself to his feet. "Who's the sneaky, clever bastard now?"
He had finally managed to override whatever lockout Lyta had put in place. The jury rig had worked, but it wasn't going to win him any speed records. Or any awards for neatness, he thought, eyeing the pile of wiring strewn on the floor. Lyta seemed to know her way around a Vorlon-Minbari hybrid ship, he'd give her that, but he was no slouch either. After his first introduction to the White Star he had gone over her schematics until he was sure he knew her inside and out. "You just never know when tricks like these will come in handy," he congratulated himself.
Reversing the ship's course Marcus pushed the sensors to their maximum limit; his eyes peeled for the Shadow-Human ship, the tiny shuttle, or the small transport Lyta had left in. He was half way back to the system he had so unwillingly left when he got a blip. He slammed his hand down with a whoop. Another spark popped loudly in the wires below and he patted the surface of the console, a sheepish smile on his face. "Sorry about that."
The blip coalesced into the dark form of the Casus Belli. Marcus brought his ship to a halt and cautiously watched the other vessel's progress. It gave no indication it had registered the White Star at all. When he was as certain as he could be that it wouldn't be turning to intercept, he matched the dark ship's heading. He hoped it was a safe enough distance. "All right then. Let's see where you're going."
The Casus Belli arrived late to its rendezvous. Hanging in space at its destination was a bulky, rusted-out freighter. The sleek, liquid lines of the Shadow-Human hybrid ship stood in stark contrast to the waiting vessel. As the the mismatched pair moved closer they came together quite unexpectedly. The long tendrils that stretched below the hybrid slid smoothly into subtle grooves on the freighter's hull. It looked like a cephalopod drawing in it's prey. A thump resounded throughout the cargo area as the two ships finally halted and a brief hiss of air betrayed the slight change in pressure as the loading bay door began to open.
For the last several hours, the freighter had been thick with crew members sitting on their thumbs. Sheridan knew that his luck was wearing thin. He had narrowly avoided being caught up to now, but his odds of remaining undetected could not be good. He was relieved when the announcement to begin unloading was finally made over a loud speaker. If the crew was busy, they were less likely to notice him.
As soon as the cargo door opened wide enough, the loaders began pushing pallets through. Sheridan took a deep breath, pulled his cap low, and made his way toward the opening. The freighter was emptying everything; this was definitely his stop. The trouble was, no one else seemed to be exiting. The only things moving through the opening were the large supply crates, and it was too orderly here for him to hide in plain sight for very long.
The bay was more than half empty when he decided he couldn't wait anymore. Sheridan pushed off the crate he had been using as cover and dove for the opening just ahead of the next pallet in line. He heard someone shout as he slipped through the door. He only worried about it for the two seconds his momentum lasted before his stomach jumped into his throat and he went crashing to the floor. Dazed, he had just enough presence of mind to roll out of the way of the crates that were following him.
After spending hours in zero gravity, its sudden return was playing hell with his equilibrium. His mind reeled. He couldn't be planet-side, and if they had been docked with the rotating section of a ship or station the freighter would have experienced some of those g-forces. Where the hell was he?
He was in trouble. An alarm began ringing throughout the room. Several Humans who had been directing crates stopped in surprise. Sheridan jumped to his feet and began to run. He had no idea where he was going, but he didn't much fancy staying there.
As he ran he tried to take in his surroundings. The corridors were the same familiar gunmetal gray that graced the interiors of all the destroyers in the Earthforce fleet. But the layout wasn't conforming to a pattern he was familiar with. Minbari had artificial gravity on their ships, as did the White Star. He'd never seen a human vessel with anything like it though. This had to be the Casus Belli.
He rounded a corner to see two soldiers, PPGs in hand, coming towards him. He came to an awkward halt fully expecting to be shot at. The first soldier gave him a disapproving look. "Why aren't you at your station?"
Remembering that he was dressed like a pallet jockey, Sheridan blinked and dropped his gaze. "Uh, I was on my way there right now…sir."
The soldiers waved him by and not wishing to look a gift horse in the mouth he hurried past. The soldiers reached the junction behind him and one reported in on his hand link. Sheridan strained to hear as he walked away.
"Sweep of 1-4-F complete. No sign of them. Moving to 1-4-G."
A voice came through the link. "We have a new problem…a possible intruder…"
Sheridan didn't wait to hear anymore, he took off at a run.
The alarm ringing throughout the cabin sent a brief wave of fear through Delenn. They would be found, and the cold man would be waiting for her. Ruthlessly she squashed the thought. The cold man was dead; Kosh had killed him. She would not allow herself to be subjected to the tortures of Nightwatch or the Shadows again. Not if she could help it, and she was not alone anymore.
She glanced at Lyta. Thanks to the telepath the overwhelming pressure of Kosh's presence had vanished, but in its place was a distracting parade of unfiltered thoughts and memories. She could hear Kosh almost constantly. Lyta had inadvertently given her a direct line into Kosh's mind. Images and feelings came to her uncontrolled and it was not a particularly pleasant experience. She took a deep breath, exhaling tremulously. What she really wanted to do now was to crawl into a corner and cry, but that would help neither of them. Lyta was looking at her intently, her face creased with worry.
Delenn did her best to smile. "The pressure has lessened. I believe your attempt was helpful."
Lyta looked slightly relieved. "Good. Let me know if it gets worse again."
Delenn rose to her feet, and one of those unexpected thoughts from Kosh rose unbidden to the surface of her mind. Lyta could no longer read her mind. Kosh was effectively throwing off telepathic static, and it encompassed Delenn now too.
Lyta had risen as well and was rummaging diligently through the armoire near the door. Delenn watched her absentmindedly; the intrusive memories that flitted by garnered the majority of her concentration. After a minute Lyta turn to her with something in her hand. "Here put this on." Delenn looked at the navy blue cap with a puzzled look. "Oh," said Lyta, comprehending her confusion. "It's a hat. I thought it might help to cover your…" Lyta shrugged and pointed at the delicate bone crest circling the back of Delenn's head. "May I?"
Delenn nodded. Lyta stepped forward to place it on Delenn's head, and Delenn flinched away from her uncontrollably. Lyta dropped her hand in surprise. "I'm sorry! What did I do?"
Making an effort to steady her breathing Delenn shook her head. "It is I who should apologize. I…I was not thinking clearly." Her hand was unsteady as she held it out to take the offending item. She swallowed; for a moment all she had seen was a suffocating, black mask coming towards her.
"Will this do?" Delenn asked. She had managed to tuck her hair awkwardly up, underneath the ball cap. It didn't fit well over her crest, but it was covered.
"It ought to make you a little more inconspicuous, anyway." Lyta said. "Now we just have to figure out how to get out of here."
Delenn was silent for a moment. They had been slowly making their way towards the shuttle bay before they had been forced to stop. "I am unsure there is anything aboard which can out-run this ship."
It was Lyta's turn to be silent. "I can stop it," she finally offered softly. "Not for very long, but maybe long enough." Her voice shook a little as she spoke.
Delenn gave her a long measuring look before nodding in agreement. Her connection to Kosh was showing her things faster than she could immediately comprehend, but she had no trouble understanding the kind of suffering Lyta was volunteering for. "Very well, let us go."
Lennier swallowed. He stood alone outside the Chamber of the Nine, resisting the urge to pace. Though there was no one in sight, he knew he was not unwatched. He knew they were merely keeping him waiting to unnerve him, but the tactic was effective nonetheless.
He was still reeling from the unexpected summons. The response to his report had been clear: A vessel had been sent to investigate. But rather than investigating the Shadows and their conspirators it seemed they were investigating him. He had never stood before the Grey Council, and he wished that he were not here now. He wanted to be doing something straightforward and simple; he wanted to be out there searching for Delenn. Instead he was here, participating in a dangerous and complex game. He could only hope that if the Council was not already decided on the matter that he would be able to convince them to send help. All the while skirting around the Humans' involvement with Delenn's abduction. What was the expression that Captain Sheridan had used? It was like dancing.
Finally, a white-robed acolyte stepped out of the shadows. He bowed slightly. "You will be seen now." He gestured for Lennier to enter and backed away. Taking one last breath to try and center himself Lennier stepped through.
Immediately he was plunged into darkness. He could hear his footsteps echoing in a vast space. In the center of the great chamber stood a single column of light. Steeling himself, he strode forward purposefully. He blinked as he entered the blinding circle; he could make out nothing beyond it. He intoned the ritual greeting, "Summoned, I come."
There was a moment and then a voice came out in the darkness. "You are Lennier of the Third Fane of Chudomo."
Lennier nodded in assent.
"We have reviewed your report."
A long pause followed this statement. Lennier did not know if any further comment would be forthcoming so he spoke. "I believe that we must act quickly to secure Ambassador Delenn's safety," he said, struggling to rein in his emotion.
A harsher voice came from his right. "We must do nothing."
Lennier opened his mouth to protest but the first voice spoke again, pacifying, "We must do nothing in haste."
Lennier looked to either side. "I apologize. I did not mean to suggest—"
"I believe you did." The second voice interrupted. Lennier was so close to placing it. "Your report stated that Shadow agents took Delenn while she was off station. I wonder why she felt the need to leave her assignment."
"I am not privy to all of Ambassador Delenn's movements. I am merely her aide." Let the courtship ritual begin, Lennier thought nervously.
The first voice continued the questioning. "You have no idea whatsoever what she was doing?"
"I believe it involved a favor for Captain Sheridan, but beyond that I cannot say."
"And in fulfilling this unknown favor, her ship was intercepted by Shadows."
"Agents of the Shadows, yes."
"It seems to me that this is a truly terrible incident, but not one we can do anything about," the second voice stated.
There was an indistinct murmur at this. The voice spoke again, accusingly. "Would you have us storm Za'ha'dum?"
Lennier was not sure if it had been directed solely at him or at the indiscernible others. He could not say no. If Delenn were there he would have them tear the entire planet apart. "Surely there is something that can be done. At the very least, I know that Ambassador Delenn would wish us to prepare for the coming war against the Shadows."
"What Delenn wants is not the concern of this council," the voice said, dripping with scorn.
"But surely you see the danger of the Shadow threat, the Anla'shok—"
"Enough!" Lennier looked down at the rebuke, but his mouth remained drawn in anger. "The Anla'shok are an obsolete remnant of a bygone age. It is the responsibility of the Warrior Caste to fight for Minbar. I see no reason why we should place our trust in a faction that has been polluted by outsiders."
Lennier decided it was time to play his last card. "Before I left Captain Sheridan thought he would be able to locate the ship on which Ambassador Delenn was being held."
"You believe that the Starkiller will be of service to the Minbari?" The voice spit the epithet and Lennier finally identified the voice, Satai Neroon. The man who had taken Delenn's place and upset the balance of the council.
"I do," Lennier said firmly.
"Tell us then," Neroon began dangerously, "what special knowledge does Starkiller possess that he can locate a single Shadow ship?"
Lennier looked straight ahead. "Captain Sheridan has allied with the Vorlon Ambassador, Kosh, against the Shadow threat. It is as Valen's prophecy foretells. The humans have united with us to battle the coming darkness."
Several new voices exclaimed at this announcement. And the first voice spoke loudly over them, "We must deliberate over this information. You are dismissed."
Lennier clasp his hands and bowed low. He turned to go and as he exited the sounds of arguing behind him grew louder.
Sheridan was kicking himself mentally as he tried to put as much distance between the soldiers and himself as he could. He didn't have a clue where to go. He didn't even have any proof that Delenn was still here. The soldiers he had encountered earlier were looking for someone besides him, whom else did they have on board? The horrible image of the Strieb's menagerie popped into his head, and he shuddered. I could always just give myself up, he thought grimly. Maybe he'd get lucky and they'd lock him up somewhere near Delenn. Assuming they won't just shoot me first.
His straining ears caught the sound of footsteps somewhere behind him, inducing another burst of speed. It put a little more distance between himself and his pursuers, but this strategy couldn't work forever. There was only so much ship. He was going to run out of room sooner or later.
It was sooner. Sheridan took the corner ahead at almost a dead run, hurtling bodily into two members of the crew who were standing in the corridor. One of the two might have sensed his headlong rush a split second before; she had almost gotten out of the way. He clipped her, but slammed into the more distracted second. There was little resistance to his overwhelming momentum. She grunted as the impact knocked the wind from her, and he heard the unpleasant sound of her head hitting the floor. He surged desperately to his feet; agonizingly slowed by the tangle of limbs he found himself in.
"…John…" Delenn tried weakly, struggling to regain her breath.
Sheridan spun in surprise as his brain finally registered her voice and took in the scene before him. Lyta had been knocked to the side and was slowly returning to her feet. Delenn lay on her back, eyes closed. The hat she had been wearing had come loose in the collision and her hair lay pooled about her face. They were both wearing the same dark coveralls he had seen on some of the crew here.
"Delenn!" Sheridan was at her side in a flash, all thoughts of pursuit obliterated. "I…God…Are you okay?" He took in a deep breath, emotion choking his voice, "I'm so sorry."
Delenn opened her eyes, winced, and closed them again. She took a shallow breath. "Why are you sorry?" she managed weakly. "For finding me?"
He swallowed, not trusting himself to speak. He looked at the woman lying next to him. Deep purple bruising covered one side of her face, trailing from the join of crest and temple to her jaw. Half hidden by her clothing was a narrow silver band he did not recognize. It lay just above the hollow of her throat and was so thin it might have been jewelry were it not for the angry, blistered flesh around it. Why was he sorry? How could she ask that? He was sorry for everything. Sorry he had let her sacrifice herself for him, sorry for not getting there sooner, sorry for adding to her pain. He forced a weak laugh. "Some knight in shining armor I turned out to be."
A quizzical smile broke out over Delenn's face. It transformed her battered countenance, and Sheridan felt his breath catch. Her eyes opened again, but she turned her head away almost immediately.
His face fell; she couldn't even look at him. How could he have let this happen? "I…I understand. You have every right to be angry."
Delenn shook her head. "I am not angry." She looked back at him and blinked as if she was staring into the sun. "It is just that your armor shines so very brightly."
Sheridan's forehead wrinkled, and then smoothed as he broke into a boyish grin. Without warning he pulled her into an urgent hug. Delenn's breath went out of her for the second time in a matter of moments. It seemed to happen so frequently when he was around. "There's something I need to tell you," he whispered.
Lyta straightened suddenly. "They're coming. We need to move now!"
The memory of the footsteps he had been fleeing rushed back to the forefront of his thoughts. "Shit! I've led them right to you."
John released his hold on Delenn reluctantly. "Can you walk?"
"Yes."
As he helped her to her feet he pulled out his concealed PPG. There was no chance he'd pass for a member of the crew now. He looked around. "Which way?" Lyta pointed down the corridor and the trio began moving in that direction.
"What are you doing here, anyway?" John asked Lyta.
She glanced at him incredulously before focusing her attention back on something intangible. "Trying to find a clear route for us to the shuttle bay. Do we have to talk about this now? I really need to concentrate."
"Um…I guess not."
Delenn could see she was slowing them down. The effects of her imprisonment and subsequent merger with Kosh were visibly wearing on her. While the sight of John had invigorated her, that burst of strength was waning. She looked over at him. The blinding light surrounding him had faded to a faint nimbus; all of it the result of Kosh's unique vision, she assumed. Part of her still could not believe he was actually here. She had hallucinated him once before after all.
The thought stopped her dead in her tracks. She put a hand on the wall to steady herself. What if all of this was a hallucination? Was any of her escape real, or was she still in her cell, drugged and giving up information on those she considered friends? Fear, anger, and humiliation washed over her in turn.
John turned back to Delenn and saw that she had stopped. "Delenn? What's wrong?" He started back towards her reached for her arm.
"No." She backed away from him. "Not again." Her eyes flicked warily between him and Lyta.
"Delenn—"
"Stay back." She bit the words off.
Concern and fear tinged Lyta's voice. "Is it—?"
Suddenly, white-hot fire shot through Delenn's body as the pain-giver at her neck activated. She screamed and dropped to her knees, her face twisted in agony. She could feel it pulling at her bonds with Kosh, ripping through her body and her mind, trying to separate them.
And as suddenly as it had begun, it was over. Much to her surprise, John and Lyta had not vanished into thin air. John rushed towards her as she endeavored to stand. He slipped an arm around her waist to support her. Not caring if he was real or not, she clung to him. "I cannot escape this place," she said bitterly. "You and Lyta must go."
His grip on her waist tightened. "I'm not leaving you."
A sob escaped her in response. "Go."
He shook his head. "No. Lyta, can you get to the shuttle bay? We'll be there as soon as we can."
"Delenn, are you sure?" Lyta asked.
Delenn's voice echoed with Kosh's overtones as they spoke together. "Go. Now."
Lyta nodded reluctantly and took off at a run down the corridor.
"That was a neat trick. You'll have to show me how to do it sometime." He gave her a wan smile. "I can just picture the look on Susan's face."
Delenn did not return the expression. "Unfortunately, I doubt you would find the experience very enjoyable."
The telepath vanished around a corner. "Keep moving," John encouraged.
Delenn leaned heavily on him. He felt so real, but he had felt real before. "John, how did you get here?"
His eyes moved in her direction. "I, uh, stowed away. Not exactly first class accommodations, and definitely not something I would recommend it for a return flight."
Delenn let out a low, bitter laugh. "Anywhere is better than here."
The sound of heavily booted feet came from behind them and John looked back sharply. "Oh hell." The hall was bare; there was no convenient place to hide.
The pain-giver ignited again and Delenn began convulsing with a cry. A thousand stinging insects raced up John's arms and he nearly dropped her. He swore loudly and gripped her tighter with one arm. With the other he raised his PPG in the direction of the oncoming footsteps.
Four soldiers came into view, rifles trained on the shaking couple. Behind them stood a smartly dressed businessman. He could not have looked more out of place if he had been wearing a clown suit John thought absurdly. "Drop your weapon!" one of the soldiers barked.
Through the haze of pain Delenn heard a voice she had been dreading. "My, my. You have been surprisingly difficult to track down, Ambassador. Who would have thought such a little thing would be so useful in your recovery?" Her tormentor held up the silver remote.
John's eyes narrowed. "Turn it off."
"Ah, first you must give up your weapon…as a sign of good faith and all that." His voice turned icy. "I could easily kill her you know."
Slowly, John lowered Delenn to the floor. On his knees, he pushed the PPG towards the soldiers. "Now turn it off!" he growled.
The well-dressed man stepped forward and deactivated the switch. "Very good." He gestured and two of the soldiers moved to flank John. Delenn gasped with relief as the pain-giver shut down. "Now, who are you and why are you helping a Minbari war criminal?" he asked somewhat curiously.
"Go to hell." John spat.
The interrogator cocked his head at John's defiance as if in consideration and then pressed his remote.
"No!" John shouted.
He smiled unctuously as he shut it off again. "Answer my questions, and the use of this will not be necessary."
"Do not answer him." Suppressed fury that this man would use John's compassion against him laced Delenn's words.
The interrogator chuckled in surprise, "You're still conscious, Ambassador? I must say I'm impressed. You succumbed so much more quickly the last time, I would not have expected such reserves from you." He leered. "I look forward to probing them anew."
"You son of a bitch!" John exploded from his position on the floor without warning. Before the soldiers could react his hands were around the interrogator's throat. The offending remote was knocked away; surprise etched on the face of his target.
Delenn felt Kosh welling up inside of her. The pain-giver's frequency had managed to tear loose some of the Vorlon's moorings to her frame but she intended to make the most of his strength while she could. The guns were still tracking the pair locked in combat on the floor. She too, was on her feet in the blink of an eye. The soldier next to her felt his head hit the wall before the man had even registered that the beaten Minbari might pose a threat. He slumped to the deck, unconscious.
The woman on her right fared no better. The heel of Delenn's palm hit her face with unnatural force. She too fell, bleeding and incapacitated, to the floor.
The two soldiers who had been standing behind the well-dressed man had more time to react. The first pulled his weapon up and fired. The second, keeping his weapon trained on the men wrestling on the ground, began shouting into his link.
John looked up when he heard the gunfire. He threw a final satisfying punch into his opponent's bloodied face. The interrogator's head snapped back into the floor and he lay still. Sheridan swung his legs around in a sweep and knocked down the soldier whose attention had moved to Delenn. His second shot went wide. A solid blow across the jaw and he was out of the fight.
Delenn closed with the last and grabbed his rifle with both hands. Ripping it from his grasp she swung the butt of it across his face and he crumpled to the floor like the others. A glinting object on the floor caught her eye. She picked the remote up and crushed it effortlessly in her fist. Kosh spoke, "It is time to leave."
