A Place to Call Home
By Terri Osborne
terri@terriosborne.com
Part 7
All Babylon 5 characters and settings belong to JMS, Warner Brothers, TNT and anyone else with legitimate legal claim. No infringement of copyright is intended by this work. Only a few select characters are mine, and should the Great Maker need them, or anyone similar to them, I can probably be bought off with a story credit. ;-)
Even though this covers the same time period and the same major event, no infringement upon J. Gregory Keyes' novels is intended. Though, I will draw upon them for some background information.
Content Warning: [AC] [AL]
Anything encased in * these * is telepathic speech.
A note from the author: This story centers around three characters, Susan Ivanova, Alina Minette (yes, she's baaaack) and, to a certain extent, Lyta Alexander. To the I&M'ers out there, stay tuned, my friends. For the spoiler-allergic, provided you haven't read it already, I would recommend waiting to read Only Those Whose Lives Are Brief. In an intentional Babylon Squared/WWE homage, the flipside of at least one scene in Brief will show up here.
Since I'm not sure of everyone's schedules, I'll include this potential spoiler warning: I'm a continuity junkie, so this includes events through Season 5, as well as things that were revealed in the closing credits of Sleeping in Light. (If you've seen it, you'll know exactly what I'm talking about. If not, that's okay, it's not quite that obvious.) Background information on the Psi Corps comes from the Keyes novels. Set in the same potential future as Only Those Whose Lives Are Brief. Considering that this covers the time frame of late 2263 - early 2265, I suppose everything is a potential spoiler (though, it would be one INCREDIBLY lucky guess).
And thanks to Sarah, Sharon and Keith, my eagle-eyed beta readers! Virtual boxes of Godivas to all of you!
Now that I've probably confused the daylights out of you, how about we fix that?
----------
March 25, 2264
Alina flipped through page
after page of reports, deciding what information to pass along to Lyta, and what their
leader really didn't need to worry about. Her eyes stopped at a copy of a government
report dated just a few days previous. "Damn it," she whispered.
She had barely been out of the
base since arriving on Mars. How had they gotten the composite drawing?
Leaning back in her chair, she
held the report of her alleged rise to power in a tense hand. "Now, what?"
"We make sure they don't
get a photograph, that's what."
She swiveled slowly toward the
sound of Keene's voice. "And how would you propose we do that? We don't even know how
they got the composite."
His left eyebrow rose a
fraction. "Then we find out."
"Bester would give quite
a bit to get his creepy little hands on any of us. Precisely how do you suggest we go
about finding this out?"
"Simple," he said,
dropping into the chair beside her. "Have you ever heard of something called a
blanket scan?"
She shook her head.
"Well, it's part of a Psi
Cop's training. They can put a high-level telepathic signal out for a maximum of a
kilometer all around. Lets them pick up rogues. Between the two of us, I'm sure-"
"No," she stated.
"Nothing that would put us at risk. Lyta told me about the bloodhound units. I was
hoping we'd never have to work around them. Should have known better. The only good thing
is that we're well over a kilometer outside of the main dome. Do you know of any way we
could pick up on a signal like that?"
He shook his head. "We'd
have to set up a permanent telepathic watch."
"Do it," she said.
"Unless you know of someone in this unit who's more familiar with the way bloodhound
units work, you're in charge of organizing the watch."
"Consider it done. I'd
recommend you and Lyta both stay out of sight for a little while, though."
She drew her legs up, placing
her feet on the chair seat. "That might be easier said than done. How are we supposed
to gather information, meet with important people?"
"Send someone else,"
he said, his voice practically begging. "Garibaldi can find you a representative from
one of his people. Work through written orders. Just don't appear anywhere in
public."
"Are you suggesting Lyta
and I hold ourselves hostage?"
He reached out and clutched at
her hand. "You do what you can to keep everyone safe. Just like you did for
Kelly."
"Andrew-"
"I know, you're used to
looking out for yourself. That's not the way it is anymore. You can't just put yourself in
harm's way. What about your friend? You may be the only hope he has."
She took a deep breath,
staring at his hand wrapped around hers. "I am a Ranger. We have ways of making the
impossible happen."
He shook his head. "No.
We can't get them involved. We have to do this ourselves. Besides, I thought you said
Delenn let you go?"
Alina eyes widened as an idea
struck. "She did, but, she also said that she would be there if I needed her help.
What if I used the Rangers to save a Ranger?"
"He's right, Alina,"
Garibaldi said, stepping into the room behind them. "It isn't the Rangers' fight, but
you may have an idea about Marcus. It'll take longer, but it would be more secure than
anything I could put in down here."
Alina very slowly turned her
head toward Michael. "Do you still have connections to the Rangers?"
"Was Clark corrupt?"
he answered with a smug smile. "Of course I do. There are special encrypt codes for
Delenn's level of security, though. I'll bring them on my next trip. You give me a message
for her, I'll make sure she gets it."
"Thank you, Mister
Garibaldi," Alina said, relieved that something was finally going her way. "Now,
is there something I can do for you?"
"Yes. Where's Lyta? I've
got something the two of you will be dying to hear."
Alina turned a glance to the
person at the nearest display. "Is she in her quarters?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Keene stood, releasing her
hand with a squeeze. "I'll get her. Be right back."
No sooner was he through the
door than Garibaldi began to laugh. "What have you done to him?"
"Nothing," she
answered. "Why?"
"Nothing?" he asked,
surprised. "You're serious? He does a complete one-eighty in a week and you didn't do
anything?"
Alina's eyes were drawn to the
empty doorway. "No. What do you mean?"
Garibaldi lowered himself into
the chair across the table. "Lady, I've known that guy for a year now. Up until last
week, I'd only seen one man alive more depressed than him, and that was me when I found
out about Lise's first marriage. I'd say he was back to normal, but nobody around here
knows what normal is for him."
One question popped into her
mind. "Could it be the fact that he's not in charge anymore?"
"You're the
telepath," Garibaldi said. "You've been in close contact with him. You tell
me."
They sat in silence while
Alina's brain absorbed the information. She had heard the story of what `normal' had been
for him and seen the state he'd been in when she arrived. Past experience told her that
being in charge of such a flourishing group of people was extremely stressful. The idea
that he had been pushed into such a position right after losing his wife and daughter,
well, anxiety was a kind word for it. Lyta's arrival certainly explained the change in
personality more than any influence she might have had. She didn't want to imagine
the sheer hell the last year had been for him, but she had a feeling that she would find
out eventually.
"You rang, Michael?"
Lyta asked as she stepped through the doorway. Keene was right at her heels, sinking into
the chair he had vacated only minutes before.
Garibaldi's eyes brightened as
the redhead took a seat at the table. "You're going to love this one, Lyta," he
said. "Guess who just called this morning?"
Lyta shrugged. "I don't
know, Sheridan?"
"Good guess, but wrong.
Even better than Sheridan."
"Ivanova?" Keene
offered.
"Give that man a
cigar," Garibaldi smiled.
"Susan? What did she
want?" Lyta asked.
He turned to Alina with a
raised eyebrow. "She was looking for you, actually," he said. "Although she
said she'd rather speak to Liana Stewart."
"I'm sure she
would," Alina flatly replied.
Keene shook his head.
"Wait a minute, that's not your name."
Alina's eyes fell to the
table. "It was."
"Is this all part of that
long story?" Keene asked.
Alina nodded. "Mister
Garibaldi, what precisely did she say about me?"
"She knows about your
connection to Marcus. She also knows about our little story to the government
here."
"How does she know
both?"
"This is Ivanova,"
Garibaldi stressed. "Don't try to figure it out, just accept it and go on."
"You're better off that
way," Lyta added, smiling a little too widely for Alina's liking. She had barely
known the redhead two months, but Alina could have sworn that she was seeing the smile of
someone with knowledge they just didn't want to bring to the table yet. And now was simply
not the time to broach the subject.
"You remember the old
saying `God works in mysterious ways'?" Garibaldi quipped. "Well, we had a
corollary on B5 -- so does Ivanova."
Alina attempted to pull them
all back to reality. "But, what does she want with me?"
"A meeting,"
Garibaldi answered. "You, Ivanova, Lyta and me."
"Why you?" Lyta
asked.
"I don't know how she
found out you were here, but once she did, she was sure I'd know where to find you. I told
her if she wanted the meeting, I had to be there. No discussion."
"And she went along with
it?" Keene asked, surprised.
"She trusts him,"
Lyta replied. "When does she want to meet, Michael?"
Garibaldi leaned back.
"She said she'd be here in four days."
"I take it we're meeting
at your place?" Lyta asked.
"That was the deal."
"Lise doesn't
object?"
"She doesn't know about
it yet."
"You'd better tell
her," Alina stated. "Because if Susan is not on our side, things could get very
messy."
Garibaldi burst out laughing.
"Ivanova, willingly work for the Corps?"
"It would never happen.
Susan hates the Corps," Lyta added. "Sometimes, I think she just hates telepaths
in general. Let me give you an idea. The first time I went rogue, I found out about a
sleeper plant the Corps had put on Babylon Five. The password to activate it had to be
sent telepathically, so I went there to tell them about it. Sheridan had me send the
password to everyone on the staff. She was the last one, and the only reason she did it
was because we hadn't found the plant yet. I have never met anyone who was so terrified of
possibly being scanned."
"Terrified, hell,"
Garibaldi cut in. "She was ready to kill you."
"I know," Lyta
stated. "And I think I understand why."
Alina raised one eyebrow.
"You understand?"
An odd look passed over Lyta's
face, one that suggested the telepath had an idea. "Yes. I can't explain it right
now, but let me think something over for a little while. Having Susan on our side could
prove useful."
"Even though she's a
normal?" Keene asked.
"Yes," Lyta
whispered.
"Even though you think
she hates telepaths?" Alina asked.
"I think we could reason
with her," Lyta answered.
"So, it's settled,"
Garibaldi said, pushing himself back from the table. "Meeting's at my place in four
days?"
Lyta and Alina exchanged
looks. "Yes," Lyta said. "Just give us a time to be there."
"Got it. I'll let you
know in a couple of days."
----------
March 26, 2264
Tall, sculpted shrubbery
surrounded her as she walked toward the stone fountain. It was all so familiar, yet
somehow she knew she had never seen this particular route before.
"Where am I?"
Voices surrounded her,
speaking a language she hadn't heard since childhood. A language that it almost
pained her to hear.
Russian.
"I'm home," she
whispered. "But how? When?"
Her mind hurled question upon
question at her, until finally one voice broke out of the crowd. One voice that answered
all of the questions.
"Susan!"
The sound burrowed into her
heart, curling up in an icy ball. She didn't want to turn around, didn't want to
see the owner of that voice walk up to her as if nothing had happened.
She didn't want to have
to admit to herself that this was all another dream.
That she was not really home.
That he was not really alive.
So she concentrated on
something more stable, the columns and ornate decoration of the cathedral. The gently
curving walls that seemed to wrap her in an embrace. The sun that shone so brilliantly in
the bright blue sky over the courtyard in which she stood. The splash of the water in the
fountain. This was home, Saint Petersburg, the place she had dared to dream of seeing
again. The place . . .
"Susan?"
A slight breeze played with
the shrubs, their rustles mixing in with the voices. Sounds of laughter and happiness.
It was always about happiness.
And here seemed to be the only
place that she would ever find it.
She listened, forcing the lone
familiar voice to join the chaotic jumble of noise all around. It worked, until a hand
came down on her shoulder.
"Are you all right?"
Bracing herself for the
inevitable, she turned around and faced the world her fantasies had created, the world
reality simply would not let her have.
"Yes," she said,
forcing her spirits to rise. "I'm fine."
Those brilliant emerald eyes
watched her in silence. She knew from his expression that he was trying to decide if she
was telling him the truth. When he finally came to his conclusion, the smile that lit up
his features reached all the way into that cobalt gaze. Four years ago, she would not have
dared mention the kind of reaction those eyes had engendered. After all, he had
told her there was someone waiting for him at home.
She had never envied someone
so much in her entire life.
Had she realized back then
that home meant Babylon Five and the someone waiting was, in fact, her, how many of those
fantasies would have become reality?
She actually blushed at some
of the ideas going through her mind.
"You're fine?" he
asked, humor very lightly coloring his voice.
"Yes," she answered,
rolling her eyes. "What do you want?"
"Just thought you might
like to know that the wine is getting warm. Unfortunate thing about wine from Mars, tastes
divine, but it simply does not keep well."
She knew that wasn't the real
reason he was trying to force her out of her own thoughts, but she let him take her hand
anyway. The sensations that accompanied it convinced her that the dreams she had been
having for two years were taking an unusual turn. They were becoming more intense, more
detailed with each passing second.
Until now, her mind had only
registered a feather-light brush against her skin whenever they touched. Now, it was as if
he were really there. She could feel the texture of his skin, the strength of his hand,
even warmth emanating from the flesh.
Either her imagination was
becoming more vivid than it had ever been before, or the perhaps suspicion she had
had these last few months really was true. Just as John had carried a piece of Kosh with
him to Z'ha'dum, she would carry a piece of Marcus with her until the day she died.
One final gift.
As if she would ever . . . could
ever . . . forget.
Damned ancient technology.
"Earth to Susan?"
Shaking her head, she snapped
herself out of it. She looked down to find him stretched out on a blanket watching her,
both eyebrows raised and a glass of wine in his outstretched hand.
She hadn't even noticed
they'd stopped walking.
"Now you're worrying
me," he said. "You don't usually go away like that. Here you've gone and done it
twice now."
She sank onto the blanket
beside him, taking the glass. He was right, the wine was getting warm.
"Sorry," she said. "I guess I'm just not used to this yet."
"This?" he asked.
She took a sip from the glass,
not quite certain how to respond. She had long since grown accustomed to seeing him in her
dreams. It had even happened a few times during the Shadow War. Things had changed since
then, however. Her dreams had changed. Her life had changed.
She looked up at the sky,
searching the clouds for the right words. They were a long time coming. "I've waited
too long, Marcus."
"For what?"
"Home, happiness, you.
Hell, everything that ever mattered."
"Well, you were
rather preoccupied," he replied.
"And now it's all
gone."
"Is it?" he asked.
She pulled her eyes away from
the soft cotton of the clouds to find him watching her intently. There was no subtext in
that stare, no question waiting to be asked, no confession to be made. She could not
recall ever seeing such a perfectly innocent expression on his features in all of the time
she had known him. "Are you really here?" she finally asked. "I
mean, this isn't all a dream?"
He shrugged. "Who
knows?"
Susan swallowed hard. He was
right. She certainly could not answer that question for herself, how was she to expect
what was probably a figment of her imagination to do it? She would just have to wait for
an answer on that one.
Just what she needed, more
waiting.
The least she could do was
pull part of her life out of its holding pattern, even if it was only in a dream. She sat
her empty wineglass aside. "Marcus?"
"Yes?"
"Who cares? I mean, if
some part of you is really here, wonderful. After everything that's happened, that's the
best I could hope for. If this is all just a dream, that's okay, too. Hell, I've spent the
last couple of years living in these dreams, what's a few more?"
"Susan?" he asked.
She almost smiled at the
disbelief in his voice. "No, Marcus. I'm sick of waiting. I'm sick of losing the
people I love. And I'm damned tired of not being happy."
"So, may I ask what you
intend to do about it?"
That brought a smile to
her face. "Something I should have done a long time ago," she said, pulling
herself to her feet. One hand reached out toward him. "Come on. You and I have a lot
of catching up to do."
[End part 7 of ?]