FIC: Babylon Faith (7/?)
Warmaster Rha'Kir stared at the reports on Sech Durhan's activities, worry-lines forming on his brow. To judge from what he was reading Durhan had been running a discreet surveillance on Shakiri ever since Shakiri had been deposed. Rha'Kir scowled, if Shakiri was being watched that was a big problem, he couldn't take the risk of their clandestine meetings and plans being discovered.
No, Durhan would have to be removed.
"No," Lennier shook his head, eyes as wild as a Minbari's probably could get without imbibing alcohol. "I am grateful for your help but I cannot go there. Not-," the Minbari shook his head before staring at the newly docked humans. "I cannot go to Mars-."
"Cannot see Garibaldi you mean," Faith interrupted.
The Anla'Shok skewered the beautiful brunette with a glare, but the brunette appeared unfazed. "As you say, drop me at the nearest inhabited planet on your way and I will find my own-."
"No," Faith interrupted with a shake. "You ain't duckin' out." The Minbari's mouth opened, but the Slayer carried on over him. "Part of amends, and it's a tough part," the brunette glanced away from the Minbari she'd been eyeballing and to her companion, "is facing up to those you've wronged." Faith looked back towards the alien. "Saying sorry to someone you don't know is easy, try saying to someone you've actually betrayed or let down."
"You really should listen to her," Xander commented. "She's kinda an expert on redemption."
Faith chortled. "You sayin' I'm like his Angel?"
Xander chuckled. "Way better looking in black, but sure."
"Damn straight. I'm way better lookin' in any colour!" Faith grinned.
The alien stared at the brunette for a second before nodding uneasily. "Very well. I will accompany you."
Galen raised an eyebrow at the Minari's grudging acceptance. His makeshift crew had a very interesting dynamic to it, the Minbari was clearly a tortured soul, while the two humans each more insightful than initial impressions would suggest.
Durhan's robe rustled around his ankles as he strode through the halls of the warrior caste, nodding politely to anyone he passed. It had been a hard but invigorating day, one during which he'd hopefully done some good, helped in building this brave new universe were the Minbari wouldn't beholden to some distant 'gods', but to their own values and principles.
Self-determination, a frightening yet invigorating concept.
As a part of this new universe, the Minbari were having to learn to mix with other races, a disturbing yet interesting notion. The humans were amazing creatures, more versatile and just flat out more dogged than any of the other races, including his own. Then there were the Narns, dogmatic on a whole, but recently he'd read the writings of G'Kar, a far-thinking philosophiser to match up even with Valen. The Centauri on the other hand lived down to their reputation as greedy, self-interested, and arrogant although he'd heard many a good thing about Vir Cotto from Delenn. The other races, the Brakiri, Drazi, and the like had all shown tremendous potential in their alliance during the Shadow War.
An exciting time indeed.
Durhan's eyes narrowed as he noticed a pair of Minbari loitering at a deserted corner. There was something decidedly unMinbari about them. Perhaps it was their stance, their auras, or something else, he wasn't sure, but there was something.
Confused, he forced an untroubled expression, and strode towards the duo. "Greetings," he began to bow, then spun around at a footfall behind him, left hand slapping down to slap away the Drazi blade driving at him. Before his adversary had chance to re-attempt his attack, Durhan stepped into him and slammed a palm-strike into his jaw.
Bone cracked as the man fell away, blood arcing from his mouth. Even as Durhan began spinning back to the other two, he felt a needle enter his neck. His eyes bulged as everything seemed to slow, the power leaving his legs. His head bounced off the wall on the way down to crashing to the ground, his breath becoming ever more laboured, eyes bulging with the effort.
"Minbari," Durhan coughed blood, a feeling of unreality filling him, "do not kill Minbari."
"Yes," one of the trio crouched around his convulsing body, "but we're not Minbari."
"We're approaching Mars orbit," Galen announced.
Lennier's breath caught at the Techno-Mage's words. Despite his best attempts at meditation, the past few days had been consumed with thoughts of Michael Garibaldi. Apart from Marcus, Mr. Garibaldi had been the closest he had to a friend amongst the humans, an affably approachable man. Lennier remembered with fondness their talks on human culture and history as well as their shared motorbike building project. To face a man who he had thought of so highly and then betrayed, although not as personally as he'd betrayed both Sheridan and Delenn, was a daunting prospect.
Faith's mind however was clearly on other matters. "If Garibaldi's this big cheese these days how we gonna get in to see him?" she asked as she peered at the planet over the techno-mage's shoulder.
"Already dealt with," the techno-mage replied, "I've hacked into his personal network and organised us an appointment with Mr. Garibaldi tomorrow afternoon under the company name Merlin Incorporated."
"Merlin Incorporated?" Faith snorted approvingly. "I like it."
"I'm glad you approve," Galen said. "I'm going to take the ship off the regular trade routes, put it in cloak mode, hide in the asteroid field, and come out in the shuttle. Everyone be ready to go in twenty minutes."
Mars, The Next Day
Garibaldi leaned back in his chair and stretched his back, bored from yet another day filled with dreary meeting after dreary meeting. He might have one of the most luxurious offices on all of Mars, but it was still an office, and he couldn't wait to exit it at the end of the day. Speaking of which, Garibaldi leaned down and turned his intercom on. "Sarah, that was my last appointment of the day wasn't it?"
"Not quite." Garibaldi raised his head at the strange voice, noting the three humans and one alien stood before his desk.
"You!" Garibaldi's eyes blazed as his eyes fell on the group's solitary alien. He was half-way out of his chair, hand lunging at his desk drawer for the PPG concealed there, when the brunette was suddenly by his side, grabbing him by his shirt, and flinging his 200lb bulk back into his seat even as she back-heeled the half-opened drawer shut.
"Just cool it!" the dark-eyed brunette warned even as she kicked the drawer back shut. "We don't want any trouble, just help."
"Help!" Garibaldi scowled at the wilting Anla'Shok. "I'm not helping that treacherous bastard-."
"Yeah, 'cause you never made a mistake did ya?" the brunette drawled. "Never got yourself in a position where you almost killed your superior, one of the few men you ever truly respected?"
Garibaldi tore his glare away from the alien and looked towards the girl, only now realising just how easily she'd restrained him. He wasn't exactly in fighting shape any more, but he was still grudgingly impressed by the casual way the slightly-built girl had thrown him around. "Who the hell are you?"
"Who we are isn't important," the bald man began.
Only to be interrupted by the on-fire brunette. "Yeah, you were under telepathic control, big whup," the girl said. "Everyone's got an excuse for fucking up, but you made it worst by getting drunk on the job afterwards."
"How do you know all this?" Garibaldi spluttered, his head reeling as the modelesque beauty casually blurted out Interstellar Alliance's most guarded secrets.
"In case you're wondering," drawled the one-eyed man, "we're not from EarthGov's Diplomatic Service."
"That I already knew," Garibaldi replied, a feeling of unreality filling him. "They're a lot rougher."
"Mr. Garibaldi," Lennier spoke. "I can only apologise for the past and tell you of the great shame I feel for the dishonourable actions, and my determination to make up for them."
"It wasn't me you betrayed, it was Delenn," Garibaldi glared at the alien, remembering calls from Sheridan sharing his wife's hurt at the betrayal.
Lennier appeared to flinch at his words. "I am aware of that, Mr. Garibaldi."
"Look, we can go around in circles like this, but we have business," the bald man said. "My name is Galen and I," the woman picked a paperweight up off Garibaldi's desk and threw it at the man, Garibaldi gasped as it hit a shield and fell to the floor a foot from the man, "am a Technomage as you can see from my personal shield. And we need your help."
Garibaldi blinked, that was impressive but he was ever a sceptic, and forced a snort. "And I'm just supposed to believe…." His voice trailed off into a gulp when the man morphed into three versions of himself, and all without a single drink. "Okay, colour me convinced. What about the she-devil and patch," the 'she-devil' snorted, "are they techno-mages too?"
"No," Galen half-smiled, "Faith and Xander are something else entirely. We'll get to that in a moment."
"Will we?" Garibaldi looked towards Lennier. "I'm not predisposed to just helping anyone at the best of times, but especially when they turn up with him. What do you want and why should I give it to you?"
"How delightfully blunt," Galen said. "I know that William Edgars was obsessed with researching the First Ones, I need that research. And as for what I can offer you, I know you're obsessed with 20th and 21st century earth culture, I can give you access to two very unique sources of information on that era."
Garibaldi blinked. Did he have any secrets left? "And why do you want this information?"
"I discovered a Drakh ship on an abandoned Yolu colony world," Lennier said. "It appears they are searching for First One technology."
Garibaldi's heart sank even as he struggled to keep an impassive mask. That was something they'd always feared happening, one of the darkest nightmares. "This is Ranger business," Garibaldi bored a glare into Lennier, "REAL Ranger business."
"Perhaps, however as a Technomage I have access to resources and knowledge that even the Anla'Shok no longer possess," Galen said. "You share your information, I'll give you access to my sources."
Garibaldi had to admit he was interested. His fascination with 20th century dated back to his childhood. "What are your sources?"
Galen hesitated before glancing up at the two kids with him. "These two, Faith and Xander, are from the late 20th century."
Garibaldi snorted. "Yeah, and I'm a Vorlon."
"You've got a computer here. Look up," Faith looked briefly uncomfortable but then continued, "Stockton Prison records 2000, Admissions and the name of 'Faith Lehane', you'll find a photo of a strangely familiar and very hot babe. Then look up 'Presidential Pardons', 2004, same name." Garibaldi raised an eyebrow before doing as the brunette beauty suggested and entering Earth's historical archives. His jaw dropped as a very identifiable image flashed up on the screen, it was the girl, a lot younger than she was now, a little more baby fat on her, but definitely her. "Guess you're a Vorlon then. Who knew that inside their encounter suits they'd end up looking like balding middle aged men?"
"How, how…"
Faith shrugged. "Short answer, two spells converged to create a third, ripping us from mid '06 and dumping us here."
"Magic?" Garibaldi felt his hold on reality slipping by the second. "Magic doesn't exist."
"And yet we're here," the one-eyed man commented.
"Okay, okay," Garibaldi shook his head. "So you're from the early 21st century. Big whoop. I'm gonna need more-."
"Ever wondered about the true story of the 'Sunnydale Cataclysm'?" Xander queried. "Only I know the answers."
"Oh yeah?" Garibaldi raised a sceptical eyebrow. The Sunnydale Cataclysm was one of the great mysteries of the human age, up there with the likes of the Bermuda Triangle, Atlantis, and Stonehenge. "And how do you know that?"
"Look up a list of survivors and insurance claimants, you'll find the name Alexander LaVelle Harris listed, that'd be me."
"LaVelle huh?" Garibaldi queried as he typed.
"Yeah, that was my reaction too," Faith rejoined.
Garibaldi's eyes widened as he was confronted by the young man's name. "Okay," he looked up. It wasn't as if he could resist if the Technomage wanted to just take the information, and once they'd left, he could always inform John of their visit and concerns. His decision made, he nodded and pressed on his intercom.
"Hello, Mr. Garibaldi," his PA greeted.
"Hi Sarah," he replied. "Sarah, could you contact my wife and tell her I'll be home late. Then when you've made the call you can leave." Garibaldi ended the call. "Okay, let's talk."
Lacertan, The Uncharted Regions
Frig'Trenbrae stared down at the controls before him as his ship exited the atmosphere of the planet beneath him. Today he'd fulfilled one of his most nerve-wracking missions ever, he'd successfully made a treaty with the xenophobic Lacertan race, the red-helmeted aliens forced to the table by their humiliating defeat at Babylon 5 the previous year.
The armies of darkness were growing. Soon they would extinguish the 'light' from the universe forever.
Staat, Sector 152
Eri'Lar crept through the ruins, his breathing rasping through the respirator, his men split between escorting him, guarding their concealed shuttle, and watching out for anyone approaching from the domed Narn colony in the distance. It was risky being here, the Narns were one of the many races his people had attempted to conquer and one of the most brutal to fall into the hands of, but their sensors had picked up a strange energy that didn't match anything on their records, and according to their files, this planet had been close to one of the great crossroads of the First Ones.
So it was worth the risk.
Eri'Lar stopped as he entered a basin shaped cavern. He looked up, squinting to see the high ceiling, then gasped as he glanced around the wall and looked at the luminous-lettered writing gleaming there. As a linguist he almost but not quite recognised the words there, the lettering. His eyes widened as it hit him. "Antecedents," he muttered as he peered up at the text, realising with a thrill that he was seeing a long-dead language that not only pre-dated all known texts but was the mother of them all. Yes, he saw a little Narn there, some Dilgar over there, a symbol shaped like a Minbari letter there. If he had enough time, he could translate the entire message. However for now he'd have to content himself with taking some pictures of the text and deciphering it later.
Once he'd taken care to photograph every inch of the walls, he turned to the mysterious artefact stood in the centre of the vast cavern. It was a grey, funnel shaped object about eight feet tall about fifteen feet across the top tapering down to around three at the bottom. From what he could ascertain it served no purpose except as a container.
Eri'Lar licked his lips. What treasures would this mysterious object contain? What mysteries of the universe would it solve? What long thought impossible paradoxes and riddles would it answer?
He grimaced as he saw the controller on the top of the thing's seal. It would take him a while to break into this and for that he would need peace. He looked at the hulking guards. "Join the others on the surface, but keep in radio contact should we be spotted." Of course their orders were to commit suicide rather than be captured and then tortured, their plans were too important to risk them falling into their enemy's hands.
The moment the Brutes were gone, he began working on the controls, long fingers dancing over the controls as he tried combination after combination.
He gasped as a low-pitched humming echoed around the vast cavern, then glanced up fearfully as the cavern began shaking dust falling from its high ceiling. Then the panel on the top of the mystery container slid aside and a dark light blazed out, filling the underground basement with its terrible brightness. Between the beats of his heart, a monster from his people's nightmares burst out of the container, followed by hundreds of its kin, a high-pitched shrieking clawing at his ears and very senses as he fell to his knees, screaming piteously.
The midnight-scaled creatures each had six skinless, serpentine heads with gaping maws stuffed full of sword-like teeth, each head with a solitary golden eye that blazed through the darkness. The beasts were the size of a destroyer, huge v-shaped wings flapping mightily as they flew upwards, crashing through the roof.
Eri'Lar let out a shocked cry as huge chunks of rock began to fall, turning, he stumbled out of the ancient burial site. Forcing his shaking legs under control, he stumbled up the ascending pathway to break surface in time to see Armageddon come to the Narn colony.
