Here's the second part of the story. Um, it's pretty shaky for a story since this was typed out about a year and a half ago now (heh heh, that's why it sounds a bit weird). ^^ You know, none of the characters belong to me cept for the Hak'Vir and whoever dosen't sound familiar.
CHAPTER ONE
So this was Babylon 5, the last of the Babylon stations. The five-mile long station in neutral territory for commerce, diplomacy, negotiation and of course, a little investment in profits here and there every now and then. Ah, so this was where they were to meet the Hak'Vir whom they were to sell the actifacts to.
Maximillian Eilerson, or simply known as Max Eilerson was in charge of the delivery and the liasion to the Hak'Vir. Negotiation wasn't exactly his specialty; it was archaeology and as linguist. But, then again, he was the one who discovered the artifacts, so he had to be in charge. If he did an excellent job, perhaps he can get extra credits for it. Profit drove him, so did his brilliance whom everyone just hated and often did his mouth.
But right now he needed his mouth. He was lost. Damn, this was pathetic. A liasion to the Hak'Vir who can't even find his way through the damned station. He was going to be the laughing stock in IPX of the entire year. He caught sight of an odd fellow in a black jacket with ebony hair and beard. Maybe he knew where he was going.
"Um, excuse me, sir," he said to the man. "I'm Maximillian Eilerson, liasion to the Hak'Vir from the Interplanetary Expeditions. I seem to be, um, well, lost and I need to find the conference room. Do you know where it is?"
"You're from IPX?" he asked. Funny, why should he ask? The man grabbed his arm and dragged him over to blend in with the crowds. "Good, very good. I must warn you of something; there is a gang that is here to steal whatever goods your ship is carrying." He looked around suspiciously. "You must secure it or else they will sell it to the black market."
Max pulled himself back, alarmed. "Steal the artifacts!" he cried, then silenced when he caught some attention of some passers. He pulled close. "Are you certain? I thought Babylon 5 was a safe and ideal place and you're telling me it's a filthy and devious and a very dangerous place for me and my cargo?! I mean, don't get me wrong, but those are to be sold to the Hak'Vir and everything, Mr...mr..."
"Marcus Cole," he said quickly. "I am certain. I have my sources. Now, you have to believe me---"
"---There you are, Marcus!" came a familiar feminine voice. "I knew you had to be near the ship somewhere." He grunted and turned; Commander Ivanova was standing behind them. Max straightened abruptly at the sight to a presentable manner to the cordial and regulation-bounded commander of Babylon 5. What an actor.
Marcus grinned cheesily. "Oh, Commander Ivanova! What a pleasant surprise," he said, hiding his surprise. He gestured to Max. "I was about to show Mr. Eilerson the way to the conference room. Mr. Eilerson, this is Commander Susan Ivanova, number two of the station."
Mr Eilerson nodded cordially. "Commander," he said. "I finally get to meet you. I heard alot about you. May I compliment on what a superb job you are of taking care of this beacon of...peace? It is such an ideal and safe place to do business with other nations."
Marcus groaned. The guy was a lady's man? Or just had an ego the size of a quasar? He was such a liar. Was it only minutes ago he was saying what a filthy and dangerous place this was? He was going to have a little chat with this man once Susan leaves them to themselves.
"Thanks." Ivanova raised her brows suspiciously, not leaving Marcus' eyes. He felt small everytime she did that to him; why did she always have to do that, giving him the evil eye? It was sometimes irritating as if she was a telepath and he was being scanned...she wasn't a telepath, right? "Really?" she asked him.
Marcus grasped Eilerson's arm tightly and forcing out an embaressed smile. "Of course, Commander," he told her defiantly. "Are you saying that I am incapable of escorting this man to meet the liasion of the Hak'Vir? Seriously, Commander, you should have more faith in little old me. Word of a Ranger, of course."
Max raised a brow.
"Okay, Marcus," she finally gave in. "You got me there. Have any problem, you call me." It meant that if he called her, he was obviously not having a great time as he planned, meaning his failure in the bet. He smiled. "Most likely, it won't be nessesary," he promised.
"Okay, Marcus, you're on the lead," she said, nodding to Max. "Mr. Eilerson." Then, she strode away through the crowds off the Zocalo, blending in with the many men. Once she was out of sight, he hit Max on his arm, who flinched.
"What was that for?" he demanded.
"You're a really damned good liar," Marcus sneered. "You ego is the size of a quasar in front of the commander when only minutes ago you were telling me that this place was dangerous!" "Hey," Max replied, "you have to be polite to the people who run this place or else I'm without profit."
"Is that all you care about, profit! You're damned good Eilerson, but you're not fooling me," he delcared at the IPX member. Max snorted at him. "And what about you?" he asked him. "'Honour of a Ranger, of course'," he imitated in Marcus' voice.
"And I will keep my word," he told him with a pinch of dignity swelling in his voice. "I will be taking you to the conference room." He started dragging him by the sleeve of his creased clean jacket through the busy area of the Zocalo.
"May I inquire about that interesting pin of yours?" Max asked.
"No," he instantly replied as he stomped down the hallways, walking with purpose. Max kept reeling on the pin on his jacket that symbolizes that he was a Ranger, studying it with skeptical eyes. "Hmm," he said to himself. "Beautiful stone. Minbari one one side, human on the other, meeting at the bottom...could be worth alot in the markets..."
Marcus stopped and glared at Max. He was getting very irritating with his greedy thoughts and a rather big mouth. Too brilliant for an archaeologist. He should have been a social worker or something if he was this talkative. "No, you will not," he told him flatly. "This is my symbol of where I belong."
"It could be very priceful on the market," he tingled behind.
"I said no."
"C'mon, think of it, you can be with your family in a nice quiet place with no one to bother you..." he appraised.
Marcus stopped instantly and turned back to him. "You know what you are?" he asked, his voice rising. "A self-centered, self-serving, greedy, annoying big mouth with an ego the size of the entire quandrant!" he cried at the IPX member, all his fustration and irritation blurted out right in from of him.
"My, my, Marcus," came yet another familiar voice. "you finally characterized yourself of what you are...and it seems like you found youself a friend who shares the exact same qualities."
Marcus cursed to himself, gunning me down, i suppose, as he turned with a bright smile on his face. How magnanamously fake. "Mr. Garibaldi," he greeted. "What another pleasant surprise. I was merely stating my problems with this IPX greedy, self-serving, self-centered, annoying, big-mouthed servant whose ego is the size of the entire universe itself."
"I beg your pardon!" Max cried in his defence. "I see myself as a business-based, successful, brilliant achaeologist and linguist who is doing fine for a man. He," He gestured to Marcus, "is a realistic, somber, unsuccessful, flat, miserable slob on the floor who needs a little dose of his surroundings."
"I am fine," Marcus huffed. "I am perfectly happy where I am. While you want the entire galaxy for the taking as business." "IPX is an archaeological expedition of planets," he explained. "While you, on the other hand, is leading a daringly stupid and dangerous life as a 'Ranger'."
"You are such a bastardly business-racist in a suit!"
"You are a miserable, no-excuse for a human being!" Max shot back.
"You will be a slop in a pavement and still mouthing off!"
"Ridiculous! I am merely stating out facts of life and career!"
"Well, good for you for look who's being realistic!"
Security Chief Michael Garibaldi could not believe this; the two biggest mouthes were against each other in a competition of who's better! Oh, he felt an urge to buy himself a pack of popcorn, call the other officers over and watch them pit against each other. This was funny. And it was beginning to give him a headache but laughing anyhow. "Okay, calm down, you two. You're attracting attention."
Marcus glared at Garibaldi with his teeth clenched up and his jaw set as if the chief of security was going to jump on him. "No, I will not calm down!" he claimed, then glaring at Max with his icy blue eyes that reflected well to the light like a stone. "Tell him to shut his big fat ego up and maybe I might reconsider!"
"Like hell I'm not!" Max cried. "Not until you shut your big, fat and hell-huge mouth of yours!"
"Hah! Look who's talking!"
"Hah! Well look at the mirror, shall you?" Max said smarily.
Oh, that was bad, Garibaldi mimicked to himself. He wanted Marcus to be angry; he certainlyy got his attention. I wonder what Marcus will say now. He rubbed his chin as they continued to bicker. Their voices rose higher and higher as they continued to insult each other when finally, when Garibaldi couldn't take it anymore, he just snapped;
"Okay, now shut the hell up!"
Silence. Ah, much better. Garibaldi rolled his eyes. "You two are bad news," he finally said. "If you two want to kill each other, do it in front of the Centauri or do it out of the airlock. Without an enviormental suit."
"I just might shove Mr. Eilerson out of the airlock," Marcus said. "Oh yeah? Well, I just might put you in a Centauri gun powder spot while the weapons are ready to aim! Ha!" Eilerson marched back.
The arguing continued. Oh, what the hell? Garibaldi rubbed his ears before leaving the two men to argue and insult and bicker their way out. He had to get to the Chambers room immediately for his report to be handed to Sheridan.
The terms might not be correct, but anywayz...how is the story? R&R and I'll upload the next.
CHAPTER ONE
So this was Babylon 5, the last of the Babylon stations. The five-mile long station in neutral territory for commerce, diplomacy, negotiation and of course, a little investment in profits here and there every now and then. Ah, so this was where they were to meet the Hak'Vir whom they were to sell the actifacts to.
Maximillian Eilerson, or simply known as Max Eilerson was in charge of the delivery and the liasion to the Hak'Vir. Negotiation wasn't exactly his specialty; it was archaeology and as linguist. But, then again, he was the one who discovered the artifacts, so he had to be in charge. If he did an excellent job, perhaps he can get extra credits for it. Profit drove him, so did his brilliance whom everyone just hated and often did his mouth.
But right now he needed his mouth. He was lost. Damn, this was pathetic. A liasion to the Hak'Vir who can't even find his way through the damned station. He was going to be the laughing stock in IPX of the entire year. He caught sight of an odd fellow in a black jacket with ebony hair and beard. Maybe he knew where he was going.
"Um, excuse me, sir," he said to the man. "I'm Maximillian Eilerson, liasion to the Hak'Vir from the Interplanetary Expeditions. I seem to be, um, well, lost and I need to find the conference room. Do you know where it is?"
"You're from IPX?" he asked. Funny, why should he ask? The man grabbed his arm and dragged him over to blend in with the crowds. "Good, very good. I must warn you of something; there is a gang that is here to steal whatever goods your ship is carrying." He looked around suspiciously. "You must secure it or else they will sell it to the black market."
Max pulled himself back, alarmed. "Steal the artifacts!" he cried, then silenced when he caught some attention of some passers. He pulled close. "Are you certain? I thought Babylon 5 was a safe and ideal place and you're telling me it's a filthy and devious and a very dangerous place for me and my cargo?! I mean, don't get me wrong, but those are to be sold to the Hak'Vir and everything, Mr...mr..."
"Marcus Cole," he said quickly. "I am certain. I have my sources. Now, you have to believe me---"
"---There you are, Marcus!" came a familiar feminine voice. "I knew you had to be near the ship somewhere." He grunted and turned; Commander Ivanova was standing behind them. Max straightened abruptly at the sight to a presentable manner to the cordial and regulation-bounded commander of Babylon 5. What an actor.
Marcus grinned cheesily. "Oh, Commander Ivanova! What a pleasant surprise," he said, hiding his surprise. He gestured to Max. "I was about to show Mr. Eilerson the way to the conference room. Mr. Eilerson, this is Commander Susan Ivanova, number two of the station."
Mr Eilerson nodded cordially. "Commander," he said. "I finally get to meet you. I heard alot about you. May I compliment on what a superb job you are of taking care of this beacon of...peace? It is such an ideal and safe place to do business with other nations."
Marcus groaned. The guy was a lady's man? Or just had an ego the size of a quasar? He was such a liar. Was it only minutes ago he was saying what a filthy and dangerous place this was? He was going to have a little chat with this man once Susan leaves them to themselves.
"Thanks." Ivanova raised her brows suspiciously, not leaving Marcus' eyes. He felt small everytime she did that to him; why did she always have to do that, giving him the evil eye? It was sometimes irritating as if she was a telepath and he was being scanned...she wasn't a telepath, right? "Really?" she asked him.
Marcus grasped Eilerson's arm tightly and forcing out an embaressed smile. "Of course, Commander," he told her defiantly. "Are you saying that I am incapable of escorting this man to meet the liasion of the Hak'Vir? Seriously, Commander, you should have more faith in little old me. Word of a Ranger, of course."
Max raised a brow.
"Okay, Marcus," she finally gave in. "You got me there. Have any problem, you call me." It meant that if he called her, he was obviously not having a great time as he planned, meaning his failure in the bet. He smiled. "Most likely, it won't be nessesary," he promised.
"Okay, Marcus, you're on the lead," she said, nodding to Max. "Mr. Eilerson." Then, she strode away through the crowds off the Zocalo, blending in with the many men. Once she was out of sight, he hit Max on his arm, who flinched.
"What was that for?" he demanded.
"You're a really damned good liar," Marcus sneered. "You ego is the size of a quasar in front of the commander when only minutes ago you were telling me that this place was dangerous!" "Hey," Max replied, "you have to be polite to the people who run this place or else I'm without profit."
"Is that all you care about, profit! You're damned good Eilerson, but you're not fooling me," he delcared at the IPX member. Max snorted at him. "And what about you?" he asked him. "'Honour of a Ranger, of course'," he imitated in Marcus' voice.
"And I will keep my word," he told him with a pinch of dignity swelling in his voice. "I will be taking you to the conference room." He started dragging him by the sleeve of his creased clean jacket through the busy area of the Zocalo.
"May I inquire about that interesting pin of yours?" Max asked.
"No," he instantly replied as he stomped down the hallways, walking with purpose. Max kept reeling on the pin on his jacket that symbolizes that he was a Ranger, studying it with skeptical eyes. "Hmm," he said to himself. "Beautiful stone. Minbari one one side, human on the other, meeting at the bottom...could be worth alot in the markets..."
Marcus stopped and glared at Max. He was getting very irritating with his greedy thoughts and a rather big mouth. Too brilliant for an archaeologist. He should have been a social worker or something if he was this talkative. "No, you will not," he told him flatly. "This is my symbol of where I belong."
"It could be very priceful on the market," he tingled behind.
"I said no."
"C'mon, think of it, you can be with your family in a nice quiet place with no one to bother you..." he appraised.
Marcus stopped instantly and turned back to him. "You know what you are?" he asked, his voice rising. "A self-centered, self-serving, greedy, annoying big mouth with an ego the size of the entire quandrant!" he cried at the IPX member, all his fustration and irritation blurted out right in from of him.
"My, my, Marcus," came yet another familiar voice. "you finally characterized yourself of what you are...and it seems like you found youself a friend who shares the exact same qualities."
Marcus cursed to himself, gunning me down, i suppose, as he turned with a bright smile on his face. How magnanamously fake. "Mr. Garibaldi," he greeted. "What another pleasant surprise. I was merely stating my problems with this IPX greedy, self-serving, self-centered, annoying, big-mouthed servant whose ego is the size of the entire universe itself."
"I beg your pardon!" Max cried in his defence. "I see myself as a business-based, successful, brilliant achaeologist and linguist who is doing fine for a man. He," He gestured to Marcus, "is a realistic, somber, unsuccessful, flat, miserable slob on the floor who needs a little dose of his surroundings."
"I am fine," Marcus huffed. "I am perfectly happy where I am. While you want the entire galaxy for the taking as business." "IPX is an archaeological expedition of planets," he explained. "While you, on the other hand, is leading a daringly stupid and dangerous life as a 'Ranger'."
"You are such a bastardly business-racist in a suit!"
"You are a miserable, no-excuse for a human being!" Max shot back.
"You will be a slop in a pavement and still mouthing off!"
"Ridiculous! I am merely stating out facts of life and career!"
"Well, good for you for look who's being realistic!"
Security Chief Michael Garibaldi could not believe this; the two biggest mouthes were against each other in a competition of who's better! Oh, he felt an urge to buy himself a pack of popcorn, call the other officers over and watch them pit against each other. This was funny. And it was beginning to give him a headache but laughing anyhow. "Okay, calm down, you two. You're attracting attention."
Marcus glared at Garibaldi with his teeth clenched up and his jaw set as if the chief of security was going to jump on him. "No, I will not calm down!" he claimed, then glaring at Max with his icy blue eyes that reflected well to the light like a stone. "Tell him to shut his big fat ego up and maybe I might reconsider!"
"Like hell I'm not!" Max cried. "Not until you shut your big, fat and hell-huge mouth of yours!"
"Hah! Look who's talking!"
"Hah! Well look at the mirror, shall you?" Max said smarily.
Oh, that was bad, Garibaldi mimicked to himself. He wanted Marcus to be angry; he certainlyy got his attention. I wonder what Marcus will say now. He rubbed his chin as they continued to bicker. Their voices rose higher and higher as they continued to insult each other when finally, when Garibaldi couldn't take it anymore, he just snapped;
"Okay, now shut the hell up!"
Silence. Ah, much better. Garibaldi rolled his eyes. "You two are bad news," he finally said. "If you two want to kill each other, do it in front of the Centauri or do it out of the airlock. Without an enviormental suit."
"I just might shove Mr. Eilerson out of the airlock," Marcus said. "Oh yeah? Well, I just might put you in a Centauri gun powder spot while the weapons are ready to aim! Ha!" Eilerson marched back.
The arguing continued. Oh, what the hell? Garibaldi rubbed his ears before leaving the two men to argue and insult and bicker their way out. He had to get to the Chambers room immediately for his report to be handed to Sheridan.
The terms might not be correct, but anywayz...how is the story? R&R and I'll upload the next.