A Place to Call Home
By Terri Osborne
terri@terriosborne.com
Part 13
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!
----------
March 31, 2264
"Three hundred a week
or no deal."
Lyta stared icily across the
conference table at her 'business partner,' one very irritated Michael Garibaldi.
"Come on, Michael. It's not like the company can't afford it."
Garibaldi huffed. "If I
was trying to give it away-"
"You'd pick a better
charity, I know. Just how badly do you want those black projects, anyway?"
Folding his arms on the table,
he leaned forward. "What if one of those projects endangered your people, Lyta?
Wouldn't you want to know about it?"
"You mean the virus
Edgars was working on?"
Garibaldi's eyes narrowed.
"How did you-?"
"When you wanted me to
get through Bester's blocks. I was hoping Susan might be able to look for that vial while
she was in Syria Planum."
"Andrew doesn't know
anything about it?"
Lyta shook her head.
"That's what bothers me. Bester's keeping some very nasty little secrets." Her
fist hit the table as her unpredictable subconscious threw her an idea. "That's it,
Michael! That's the inroad we've been looking for!"
"The virus? If Psi Corps
knows-"
"That's just it, they
don't." She smiled widely as she considered the plan. Yes, it just might work.
"We could say, when you took over the company, you discovered that William Edgars had
kept a few projects to himself. It's the truth, so a surface scan wouldn't give you away.
You found out about the virus. Your investigation led you to believe someone in the Corps
was involved, so you decided to do your civic duty and warn the Corps about it. You call
up the Director and tell him about your suspicions, and that the only vial Edgars had on
record disappeared when he was killed."
Garibaldi nodded. "That
tracks, but, what does this have to do with Ivanova?"
"Everything." Lyta's
smile turned venomous. "Officially, she resigned from Earthforce. What if you put her
on payroll, and assign her to working as your lead investigator?"
Michael Garibaldi shook his
head in disbelief. "And have her at the head of a Corps investigation? It's got a lot
of potential, Lyta. Really, it's good. She'd be in the position of power, and you know how
much she'd just love to stick it to Bester. If anyone could pull his slimy little secrets
out into the open, it's Ivanova."
"Not to mention it gives
you a reason to be there when we hit the base," Lyta added. "You can always go
check up on her. Who trusts communication links these days, anyway?"
Garibaldi leaned back, elbows
resting on the arms of the chair. His steepled fingers came to rest against his pursed
lips. Lyta sensed he was worried about something, and money was at the surface of his
thoughts.
"Michael, you can put
Susan on the books the same way you can put my people there. Consider it research and
development expenses."
He gave a grudging nod.
"I suppose I can backdate the files on your people, make it look like I hired them
months ago."
"And Susan?"
"I can make it
believable," he stated. "Besides, she's one of the best hackers I've ever seen.
Sheridan told me about one of the jobs she pulled off once. She helped save a lot of Narns
during the Centauri occupation."
Lyta sighed with relief.
"Does this mean you're accepting some of my people?"
Garibaldi nodded. "If you
can promise me there won't be a repeat performance of what happened to the ambassadors on
Babylon Five, we've got a deal."
Her eyes somberly met his,
remembering the fiasco that a few renegade telepaths had created. "I promise,
Michael. I promise."
----------
April 1, 2264
After hours of searching,
Susan finally found Lyta in the main conference area. The redhead was pouring over more
paperwork than Susan could recall seeing in a very long while. "Lyta?" she
ventured.
"Yes?" The redhead
raised her eyes to Susan's, and a familiar expression rested in that coppery gaze. Susan
had seen it in the mirror on more than one occasion during her command of Babylon Five.
She stepped toward the
conference table. After a night spent mentally rehearsing the scenario, her stomach still
felt as if a thundercloud were forming in its depths. "Can we talk for a few
minutes?"
Lyta closed the folder she had
been reading, placing it casually on the table. "Of course. What do you need?"
Susan shuffled a foot.
"In private?"
One eyebrow raised as she
pulled herself out of the chair. "I think I know just the spot where nobody will bug
us."
She followed Lyta down tunnel
after tunnel, the voices that had been tearing at Susan's telepathic walls growing soft.
When they had reached the point where she could barely hear them, Lyta stopped walking.
"This should do,"
she stated. "We're secluded enough that I can barely hear the rest of our
people. And last I checked, Michael doesn't have any security cameras run this deep into
the tunnels."
Susan could not resist a
small, nervous, laugh. "Why am I not surprised?"
Lyta scrutinized her closely,
yet Susan felt no attempt at a telepathic contact. "What is it, Susan?" she
asked, concern written across her features.
Unable to help herself, Susan
began to slowly pace the room. "I need to ask you about something . . . well . . .
personal."
"Not a problem,"
Lyta replied. "This doesn't have anything to do with what happened with Alina the
other night, does it?"
"In a way, yes."
The redhead crossed her arms
over her chest. "So, what do you need to know?"
Susan's pacing halted, and she
turned to look directly into Lyta's gaze. If it was time to put it all on the line, might
as well make it short and sweet. "When you were carrying around Kosh, what was it
like?"
The surprise on Lyta's
features told Susan that she hadn't been expecting that particular question.
"What was it like? What exactly do you mean?"
Susan took a deep breath,
trying to answer that same question for herself. "Well," she began, thinking
aloud, "I mean, what did it feel like? Could you talk to him? Did he talk to you?
What did it do to your dreams?"
A slow smile worked its way
onto Lyta's features. "I think I see where you're going," she said. "I
could talk to him sometimes. He was always more alert than I was. It was like he could tie
into my telepathic abilities. He kept me out of so much trouble because he could always
see it before I did. He made me a better person, I think. I know I was always happier when
he was with me. I didn't think about everything they had done to me. It was like I had
finally figured out what I was meant to be."
Susan smiled. "Sounds
like you were in love with him."
"Maybe I was," Lyta
wistfully replied.
"Was it like that at
first?"
Lyta slowly shook her head.
"I tried to block him out, just to see if I could still do it. Then I got used to him
there. The longer I carried him, the harder it became to block him out."
Susan's eyes shot to the
floor. She could hardly believe she was having this conversation. "Did he ever take
over?"
"Take over? How?"
That was a good question.
"Well, say you were in trouble and you didn't know how to get out of it. Did he ever,
well-"
"Do what needed to be
done?"
Susan nodded.
Lyta shook her head. "I
was never in that kind of situation."
"Do you think he could
have?"
"Probably."
Susan ran a hand over her
chocolate brown hair. "Lyta, how do I stop it?"
"Do you want to?"
the redhead nonchalantly asked.
Susan's stomach flipped as she
finally considered that question. It had been an easy decision up to that point.
Nobody got into her head.
Ever.
This was simply not allowed.
Nobody would ever spoil what
she had felt with her mother.
Nobody.
Until now.
Muttering a few select Russian
oaths against Marcus's parents as well as a great number of his ancestors, Susan slowly
shook her head. "Can I at least block him from time to time?"
Lyta smiled. "After those
first few tries, I never figured out how to block Kosh. But, Susan, your situation is not
exactly the same as mine was. The same rules may not apply."
"What do you mean?"
"Well," she began,
seeming to search for the right words, "it's not a pretty way to explain it, but here
goes. Kosh wasn't keeping me alive, Susan. That's not true about you and Marcus. There
isn't any place for him to go anymore. I hate to say it, but the person you might want to
talk to is President Sheridan."
Susan groaned. If it was this
much trouble explaining this to Lyta, how would she ever explain it to John
Sheridan? "I can't talk to him about this, Lyta. It's hard enough just talking to
you."
One copper eyebrow raised.
"At least you're talking about it."
"Wait a minute,"
Susan said as a realization struck. "I never told you what happened that night. How
did you know?"
Lyta reached forward, placing
a hand on Susan's arm. "I was there when Stephen destroyed the machine. It was after
you had gone. It was the middle of the night; he was alone and hysterical. I could sense
him a hundred feet away."
Susan felt the color drain
from her features. "How much did he tell you?"
"Nothing. He refused to
talk about what had happened. All he did was sit there and take apart that machine piece
by piece. Then he put the pieces into the recycling chute. He kept asking why he had to
pick friends that were so stubborn and pigheaded, and why love had to make people so
stupid. Considering that you had just left, and Marcus was suddenly gone, it seemed
logical. I didn't know for sure until the other day."
"What happened
then?"
Lyta's eyes fell to the floor.
"When you walked into the room back at Michael's house, do you remember feeling
anything? I mean, did you feel anything that you might have thought was telepathic?"
Susan shook her head.
"No, why?"
"You're sure? Nothing at
all?"
"Positive."
"That proves it,"
Lyta said with a sigh. "Susan, right before you walked in, Alina picked up a familiar
telepathic signature. She recognized Marcus."
"She's sure of it?"
Lyta nodded. "Can I give
you one last piece of advice?"
"I'll take whatever I can
get."
"I hope you weren't very
attached to the idea of privacy, because you'll never have it again. Unless . . . ."
"Unless what?"
Lyta visibly caught herself.
"Unless you believe in miracles."
[End Part 13]