The Lady of Downbelow

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January 2257 – Kosh arrives & poisoned

January 2257 – Garibaldi tries to use button to trap Nova, doesn't work ; he tries several times over several months to use button Nova gave Dr. Kyle to trap & interrogate her, never works ; he gives up & gives button back to Dr. Kyle

February 2257 – Nova & littles open unofficial medical clinic in Brown-12 ; free to those who can't pay, takes donations & barter

May 2257 – Garibaldi begins to hear rumors of "Lady of Downbelow" ; he links 'Lady' who cured Kosh to "Lady of Downbelow", no one talks to him about where to find her

October 2257 – Nova & littles open unofficial soup kitchen, attached to clinic

November 2257 – rumors of "Lady of Downbelow" increase

November 23, 2257

Garibaldi had been hearing rumors of "the Lady of Downbelow" for months. It was easy to link her to the mysterious miracle-worker who had cured Ambassador Kosh at the beginning of the year. The stories were nearly identical:

1. The Lady came and went unseen

2. The Lady could heal nearly anything for any species

3. No one knew her background

4. The Lady ran an unofficial medical clinic & soup kitchen

His informant was adamant that the soup kitchen was only available for lunch and that while technically free, the Lady took whatever those could afford. Many helped doing various chores for their share, though the Lady provided materials and ingredients.

But, finally, Michael had heard a location to find this Lady (instead of her magically appearing when needed and then disappearing right after). Thus, Michael found himself on a Monday afternoon, making his way down to Brown Sector for lunch.

As soon as Garibaldi stepped off the 'vator, he knew that whatever he had thought about this woman was far off the mark. Immediately he noticed that the corridor was cleaner than any he'd seen in Brown before other than main areas in the upper levels. There was no trash on the floor and barely any dirt. There were at least twenty people in view, but over half of them were working.

There were six going along a line of a large table; the first set down a plate, the next a cup, what he thought might be a small napkin, then a spoon went onto the napkin, the next was pouring a blue liquid into the cups, and the last placed a hunk of bread on the plate. Another group, working ahead of the six, were setting chairs, stools, boxes, and basically anything that could possibly be used as a seat, in front of the table.

Off to the side, Michael saw a group of four around an open flame and the biggest pot he'd ever seen, being stirred by the largest Narn he'd ever seen, using the largest wooden spoon he'd ever seen. (Really, the spoon might be an old rowboat oar, it was that big!) Those around the stirring Narn were putting in a variety of cut vegetables, only some of which Michael could identify, and spices.

"You're new." He turned to the voice and saw a semi-clean female. Probably human. Perhaps late teens or early twenties. Brown hair and eyes. "Welcome to Brown-12."

"Thanks. I had heard…" he let it trail off, lost for words.

"I'm Saldri, and this," s/he swept their arm to encompass the entire scene, "is what it looks like just before first lunch."

"First lunch?"

"There's three lunch shifts." Saldri nodded. "You're new, so it's part of my job to tell you the rules. There's more than enough for everyone, so no bullying of any form is tolerated. And there's no such thing as a free lunch, so each person is expected to do what they can, when they can."

"From each according to his ability, to each according to his need," Michael quoted almost absently, watching the controlled chaos.

Saldri nodded again, more enthusiastically. "I've heard the Lady say that exact thing lots of times." Her eyes lit up slightly when she spoke of the Lady. "Both for lunches and for first-aid."

Michael very much doubted that Saldri knew who Karl Marx was, or how communism worked. However, the Lady apparently did. He wondered if she also knew how Marxism had worked out practically. "Does 'the Lady' read a lot?" he couldn't help but ask.

Saldri gave a one-shoulder shrug. "Why?"

"Famous German philosopher said it about 400 years ago."

"Actually," a voice filled with humor came from his left, "Karl Marx only popularized the phrase in his 1875 published work Critique of the Gotha Program. However, in reality, it was first said in 1755 by French utopian Etienne-Gabriel Morelly, who in his Code of Nature, said 'every citizen will make his particular contribution to the activities of the community according to his capacity, his talent, and his age; it is on this basis that his duties will be determined, in conformity with the distributive laws'."

He raking his eyes up and down the woman who had approached. She had a kind smile and there was no judgement in her strange blue-purple eyes, though he had a feeling they could—and would—become as firm as steel when the occasion called for it. This was a woman who would tolerate no nonsense or rough play unless it was time for those things. The phrase 'everything has a time and place' came to mind when looking at her.

"You're very well-read," Michael observed.

Her smile widened, "More than most, but not as much as some." She smiled at the girl. "It's alright, Saldri, I'll take it from here." The girl looked incredibly reluctant, but obediently retreated, eyeing him warily as she did so. As if she expected him to suddenly attack the newcomer and Saldri wanted to be close enough to defend the woman. Out of the corner of his eye, Michael realized that several others had straightened and were paying more attention to his new conversationalist.

Other than the odd shade of her irises, she looked perfectly average for a human. Average height, average build, average weight, average clothes for someone living in Brown Sector. "You're 'the Lady'?" It almost wasn't a question. Who else could go so many places unseen than someone utterly ordinary and forgettable?

Her smile widened and she nodded. "Indeed I am." Her eyes flicked over him. "Judging by your uniform, you are an official B5 security officer. We don't get many officials down here." Her voice held a touch of teasing humor, "Are you here to charge me rent?"

There were a multitude of things that went through his mind that he wanted to say or ask. Everything from how she knew about Vorlons, to who she was, where she came from, how she got into medbay without being seen by the cameras, and more. Instead, he shook his head. "Unless it's an official space, we technically can't. This," he gestured to the area, "doesn't count." He was silent for a few seconds. "You established communism in the Downbelow."

The Lady snorted, "Stardust, no! I very much doubt that's even possible. If anyone actually studied political ideologies, they'd understand socialism doesn't work for any length of time. However, there are a couple aspects of communism that can be worked with. We also have principles of authoritarianism, democracy, anarchy, libertarianism, and several others. I doubt our system has a name, but it works for us…which is all that really matters." Her smile became sad as she eyed the tableau. "I often wonder if I'm doing more harm than good here. Giving them a false sense of safety and expectations…"

"Why do you stay?"

She sighed and shook her head, "Oh, many reasons… I'm well aware that the security and protection that I offer isn't available even a single level up or down. It's only here. However, here they feel safe enough to converse," she gestured to one side where a white-haired female human was sitting and chatting with a young male Centauri, "or play," a group of teens were dancing to music played on garbage-instruments, "or practice their skills, or even learn new skills without fears that they will be taken advantage of."

The group of cooks and cleaners were gathering, and a call went out, which was the signal that it was time to eat based on what happened next. Those already present created a line without pushing or intimidation, one crate served as a table and held stacks of bowls which were picked up, then the line moved to where the giant pot of soup waited. From there they took their newly filled bowl to a seating place. Groups formed and conversed amiably, with only a few loners by themselves.

"In reality, at best we have a small oasis in a sea of thieves and murderers, but it's ours," she finished.

Michael watched, caught between disbelief and grim understanding. "Why not use the upper levels, or the Zocalo?"

"The Zocalo is mainly for buying and selling items or gambling or such. These people have no money, and not many skills or references to get a job in order to get credits. They don't have the money to start a business to sell things they make, or to begin to create them. They are the crack of society that most are willing to overlook or ignore. As for the upper levels…the lower levels are home to the more unsavory characters that are not welcome here—"

"Thieves and murderers," he cut in grimly, echoing her earlier words.

"I don't mind them as much as I probably should, but yes—"

"You don't mind thieves and murderers?" he cut her off again, incredulous.

She sighed heavily, sadly, and gave a half-hearted shrug. "It depends on why they're a thief or murderer." There was a lot more understanding in her posture and tone than he would have expected. He doubted she was a thief or murderer—she didn't have the right demeanor—but someone she cared about deeply WAS and she knew enough of 'why' they had become such that she could no longer hold judgement on other such thieves and murderers. At least until after she knew their story.

Garibaldi was certainly getting a very good picture of this Lady's character. She was a bleeding-heart cynic, a contradiction. She had no illusions as to the permanency of what she had created, nor how far it extended, nor what possible problems she could expect, but she also couldn't stop helping others that had nowhere else to turn. "How do you pay for all this?"

Her smile flipped instantly to humor-filled secrecy. "It's amazing what people throw away as unsalvageable."

He looked at her in disbelief. Not just at her comment, but also her fast switch from morose to playful. "The food? The supplies? Where do you get them?"

"Amazing what you can learn from books," she evaded.

He suddenly realized that the woman had essentially created a community center in the Downbelow. "Sooo, you have a secondary location." She had to have. There was too much here that was right out in the open; too much of a temptation to steal.

"Yes."

"Where you somehow get and store supplies."

"Yes."

"Food."

"Yes."

"A garden."

"Yes."

"Salvage?"

"Yes."

"Trash?"

"Yes."

"Cobble them together."

"Yes."

"Fix them."

"Yes."

"You take in strays."

"Yes."

"Help them."

"Yes."

"Like the Vorlon ambassador."

"Yes."

The Chief of Security had deliberately led her down a length of single word responses so that she would get to where she wouldn't think about her answers. Enough questions like that and the answers come automatically. He now had confirmation of his suspicion that she was the one that had broken into the medlab in January to help Kosh. "Why?"

She blinked at him. It wasn't a yes/no answer this time. He noted her wince when she realized what he had talked her into revealing. She sighed. He almost expected her to ask him about blackmail or coercion. Instead, she answered his question, "Because he needed help…and no one else could." There was more to it than that, he could see it in her eyes, but that was a majority, and it fit right into what he already knew of her personality.

"Are you going to shut us down?" she asked after they were silent for a long minute, still watching those around them as they finished eating and began to file through, placing their used dishes into a large pile set up exactly for that purpose. Nearby were three washing stations where those first done eating had already begun to clean.

Garibaldi shook his head, "It's not my decision to make, but you aren't doing anything illegal or harmful, so I doubt the commander will kick up much fuss." He gave his own shrug as he let it trail off. "Though, might want to tell Kosh."

She blinked at him. "Why?"

Another tip to her character. She didn't expect reciprocity. She had literally saved a life and expected nothing in return. Not even a thank you. It put a slightly different spin on Brown-12; he would bet credits that the main reason she'd started was by accident, and bets were children to have first drawn her in. It had grown by increments, as she realized that more was needed, and she made up piecemeal guidelines based on each need. But none of this had been planned from the beginning; she hadn't come to Babylon 5 in order to set up Brown-12. She had fallen into it and still she didn't expect any praise. In fact, he'd bet she was baffled by the recognition she did obtain.

Which begged the question: what kind of life had she experienced that the result was a bleeding-heart cynical realist who also knew more about Vorlon biology than the xenobiologist medical doctor? "Because having an ambassador owe you one could come in handy."

Michael knew that the bystanders were still eyeing him and his proximity to her as if he were a potential threat. He knew that if he made a move as if to arrest her or even try to get her in a private area to speak quietly, those bystanders would jump to her defense and he would have a bad day. He needed to tread lightly. Attempting to find the answers to the rest of his questions couldn't be done here.

He needed more information and a plan. He began to walk away, then paused and turned, as if he had just thought to ask, "What's your name?"

She looked back at him, then a small smile bloomed, "Nova. Nova Morganson. You?"

"Michael Garibaldi."

"It was lovely to meet you, Michael."

"Likewise."

And with that, the Head of Security exited Brown-12, and went back up to the main decks. Now that he had an actual name, he could start a security search. He wanted to know everything there was to know about one Nova Morganson, the Lady of Downbelow.

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Awesome betaing skills go to denise3, BarbedCaress, emptyvoices, and Random_human1511! Not all of them know B5, but all were willing to take a peek and offer their opinions. Thanks bunches guys!

Please let me know what you think! I know its not perfect, but I've done my best. Reviews are love and remind me to keep writing!