Here's the fifth chapter to the story. ^^ R&R!!!
CHAPTER FIVE
Delenn entered the bustling noise of the chambers. The ambassadors were very frisky at the moment and were also very protestant. There, at the front of them all, was Sheridan, tired and snappish as he rolled his eyes and rubbed his temples.
"Captain---" Drazi ambassador. "What if they attack homeworld?"
Sheridan was about to reply, but when he caught Delenn's gaze, he stopped his retort and instead said warily, "I'll leave that on to discuss later," he growled. "This meeting is adjourned." He hit the hammer onto the wooden block.
The restless ambassadors walked off, talking amoungst each other. Delenn glided over to Sheridan's side and smiled. "Hello John," she greeted pleasantly, looking straight into his eyes kindly. "I came to check up on you."
He stirred in his seat. "I'm okay, Delenn."
"No, you're not," she insisted gently. "Lt. Corwin and Zack are rather worried about you, John. They say you're crabby, grouchy and inexplicably...as you humans would say, "stressed out." " She took his hand gently. "You must rest captain,"
"Delenn, I---"
"Your work will not go anywhere, John," she told him. "But your mind will. In your "heaven" if you keep on pushing yourself like this. The ambassadors are acting like babies, yes, but you mustn't push youself to take care of them. It is time they "grow up.""
"I suppose so." John patted her hand and smiled. "They can wait."
Delenn nodded as he got to his feet. "Say," he said, "it's almost lunch and I'm starved. Since Ivanova's down worrying about the Hak'Vir, why won't you join me for lunch. I know this terrfic place," he added, then paused. "Oh! Unless you have something else to do."
She nodded. "I will be honoured."
"Please, calm down!" Ivanova's voice boomed throughout the conference room. It was a long, slim table. On either side of the commander was Marcus and Max Eilerson, who was right now, very enraged at what the hak'Vir had said. Infront of them was the representative of the party; Counselor M'kat and his collegue who hasn't spoken a word since their arrival.
Silence; Ivanova sighed. "We are not going to go anywhere if you keep shouting like this!" she snapped angrily. "Now, Counselor, you must understand that my friend and I are only mediating for you. It was not IPX's fault that a piece of an unknown gang tried to steal the cargo."
"I do not know the intentions of IPX," M'kat snipped. "We were ensured that Babylon 5 is the perfect place to make the trade, away from raiders and pirates of that sort. Now you tell me someone wants the cargo and is here? And what is the use of this...Ranger here? He is not known for the intention of mediating. Perhaps spying."
"Ridiculous," Max said out loud. "First of all, it is a safe enivorment full of negotiations, you may call, a haven for diplomacy. Second of all, this information was pumped through some second-hand ways and that we assure you, no one really monitors Down Below. Anything can happen down there. You, my honourable Hak'Vir, most of all, are hallucinating things. My friend here is no spy. And I will have whoever I want by my side. Is that so much to ask?!"
Ivanova rolled her eyes. Oh, the tempation to blurt, "Actually, it is!" but refrained from that comment and instead focused on the two Hak'Vir. She cleared her throat diplomatically and clasped her hands together. "Now, Counselor," she said in a serious tone. "I suggest that we end this as quickly as possible. We have to get this cargo off this station before someone else does. Any questions?"
"None." A snarl.
"Good," she replied. "Mr. Cole and I will personally be supervising the entire operation with Mr. Eilerson, in case he decides to run off with your credits." Max smiled at her cheesily. "As well," she added on, ignoring him, "you will be fined an extra ten credits."
The counselor slammed his palm flat on the table. The table shuddered with a whining resistance. He was enfuried. His red eyes were now flaming like one huge bonfire in the middle fo a forest. As he should be. "What is this extra ten credits for?" he snarled.
Ivanova remained calm as she could. "Oh, maybe because I could use an extra ten credits," she teased. "Because the fact that I personally placed men there to guard it. I need to pay these guys. As well as you, Max. You are also paying an extra ten credits for the safe delivery of this cargo."
"Commander!" he cried in protest.
"Ten credits or I will personally dump that cargo into empty space," she stated firmly. The two sides muttered a yes sir before dropping down heavily on their chairs. Max seemed unhappy but none the less he tried to hide it. But the counselor was unfuriated by this sudden addition to the sum in which they already had to pay.
The counselor muttered something in their language. He then smiled and turned back to the commander and the two. Uh-oh, this wasn't good. Marcus had a free hand ready to grab his pike, and that Ivanova could see. His moves were perfectly co-ordinated. They both knew it. But just in case, Ivanova was ready to kick some Hak'Vir butt.
"I'm afraid we don't have that much money."
Max, out of all the people. "Then you don't get it."
The counselor smiled again. "You leave me no choice," he said, strangely at ease. "Unfortunately, you've just recieved your last cheque, Mr. Eilerson." He suddenly shot out a gun and aimed it at Eilerson. Marcus and Ivanova pulled him just enough for the gun to shoot the wall. Dust and smog billowed all around, making it hard to see.
Ivanova, Marcus and Max slammed onto the deck, where there wasn't that much smog and mist. Ivanova, the only one with a link, raised it to her lips and said, "Ivanova to C&C! Ivanova to Security Central! Can you respond?" she demanded, but nor reply. Static. She slammed it. "Damn! We're going to have to do this the old fashion way."
They spotted a quick set of footsteps hurried to the door before disappearing. "They just left the main doors," she told them. "Follow me." The three crawled to the doors until they could finally see. They got to their feet to see the two Hak'Vir running off. "Stop!"
Ivanova grabbed a gun from a stand and trooped off. Marcus activated his fighting pike, nearly hitting Max in the head. "Hey, watch where you're setting that off at!" he protested as they ran after their fleeing suppose-to-be-killers. He fought the panic. "Sorry!" he panted.
The lift shut. "Dammit!" Ivanova said beneath her breath.
"I think I know where they're headed," Marcus said, tugging at Ivanova's sleeve. "Come with me." They started to run again, passing by civilians. Where were all the officers when you needed them? He led them to some shafts with their doors not yet opened.
"C'mon, Marcus," Max whined. "It's a shaft. Big deal. You're just going to kill my limbs in the process. And then what will happen? I'll be happening to be paying another thrity credits for a ten minute skin-tight journey through the tight shafts of Babylon 5."
Ivanova ignored Max's incompetant whining. Beside her, Marcus broke into a sunny-side grin. Ivanova ever so wondered why she had to team up with these two in the first place. Max, the biggest ego in the entire universe paired up with a 24 hour annoying machine Marcus and a headstrong executive offiver. Pretty team they got there.
"This shaft leads to the cargo bays," Marcus explained proudly.
Commander Ivanova snapped her fingers. "Of course!" she cried in realization, clasping a hand on his shoulder. "Marcus, you're a genius!" she complimented. "The Hak'Vir obviously dosen't want to pay another ten credits to an ever-expanding profit margin, so they must be headed to the cargo bays to get the cargo off themselves. Brilliant thinking, Marcus."
Marcus beamed proudly. "Told you I learned the components and maps."
They struggled a grueling ten minutes in the cramp shafts with Ivanova wiggling in the lead. Marcus trailed not far behind, crawling the same narrow and tight compartment as he followed the commander through the compartment. Behind Marcus was Max, grumbing and sweating and was totally bummed out as he ended the quest by coming out last.
"As of right now, you owe me ten credits," he huffed wearily, massaging his exhausted limbs. "Babylon 5 is suppose to be a space-like enviorment but apparently by that journey we just did it's more than that. There's more tight spaces here than anywhere else in the galaxy; no wonder so many come here to smuggle practically anything around here---"
A slam and a clutter. Marcus dropped on all fours behind some cargo boxes and rolled to give them space. Ivanova pulled on Max's suit and pulled his down to hide them. The clamour continued madly. Max was now panic-striken. "Where's your guards? Isn't there suppose to be any around here?"
They peered through the cracks of the cargo bays in between. The Hak'Vir decided to bring more of their friends. Cluttering up on the floor was their unconcsious security guards, their guns kicked all the way and were now in the hands of the Hak'Vir. The sight made Ivanova burn and she tightened the grip on her gun. The only weapons they had were a gun and a Minbari fighting pike against seven armed Hak'Vir with bony foreheads that might kill the knuckles. Apparently, they were unloading the IPX cargo and shipping it to their ship.
"My cargo!" Max cried. "They have no right---!"
"Shut up, Eilerson!" Marcus and Ivanova hissed in unison. That made Eilerson huddle up and remain silent. Ivanova narrowed her eyes at the sight before her. Impossible odds. Maybe she might make it out, or maybe Marcus, but certainly not both. What chance did they have against seven armed to the bone Hak'Vir? Eilerson certainly wouldn't make it for sure. "Even if we make a run for it, the odds are second to none," she said to Marcus.
"You got a better idea?" Marcus had it in his eyes; fear.
"No." She settled down and looked at the box index; some craters of some low-tech bombs ment for some initiative battle in the future for any missions dis-embarking. Ivanova settled down for a moment, an idea stirring. Low-tech bombs, just enough to confuse the enemy and make a hit for them. Oh, this was going to be good. "Never mind---yes. Chances are we might not make it, but it's worth a shot. Better than sitting here."
"Couldn't we just sit here?" Max asked from his small little huddle.
Ivanova shot him a glance, a glare, but it was Marcus that gave her a wistful amount of support to see it through. "Well," Marcus said wistfully, "whatever it may be better be a doozy." He paused, listening. "If I'm going to die, I'm going to inflict some pain first." He gestured to the crates before Ivanova and tipped his head slightly. "On you lead, Commander."
They took a moment to open the craters and pull out some nice-looking egg shells. It was just like a 20th century war grenade only instead of gunpowder, it was filled with a lo-tech amount of energy burst. Just enough to fill the room with smog and make a hit for the enemy. Ivanova nodded at Marcus, who had three more of the grenades in his hand. He nodded back. "Ready when you are."
"One---" she began counting.
Max ducted for cover. "Why do I have a feeling I'm gonna hate this?"
"Two---" she continued.
Marcus placed his fingernail on the key.
"Three!" They ripped the keys off and threw the grenades aimlessly to the outside. Explosion rocked the entire cargo bay. The last thing Ivanova remembered was Marcus plopping ontop of her in protection as the rest of the crates above them toppled onton them. Then...darkness.
"I'm picking up a sudden burst of neutreno," Allen said, looking up at Corwin, whom stood at the command post that faced the observation window like a statue for the last hour or so. Zack gingerly turned around and faced the stiffened lieutenant. "Corwin..."
Corwin blinked and turned to face Zack. "An explosion?"
"Looks like it," Allen confirmed. "Low-tech or so. Apparently, it was hit off at cargo bay three..."
"Cargo bay three?!" Corwin dashed to his computer consol and checked out the controls. He turned back at Zack. "Zack, there's an IPX ship docked there!" He hit his communications. "Communications' down. Computer's picking up some Hak'Vir down there; didn't they arrive because of that trade with the IPX?"
"I don't know," Zack replied. "This day keeps on getting worse and worse."
"Zack!" Corwin scolded as he shifted over so another consol and began fiddling away. He then checked his headset and then back again. "Security's jammed up," he reported. "No movement. Zack...what on earth are you doing?" He looked at Zack's strange face as he hummed back and forth. No reply. "Zack!"
"Shush," Zack hissed. "I meditating."
"Meditating?! On the Command Deck?!" Corwin demanded. He sighed and strolled over to where Zack was meditating strangely and shook him gently. "Hey, Zack! You're on Babylon 5 if you don't remember. You're in C&C right now and we have a crisis to avert!"
"Not when everything else is jinxing us!"
"Forget the jinx, the bad luck and all that stuff and focus on the prob---"
"Today's Friday the thirteenth?!" Zack shreeched from his consol, catching a glance of the date. He made a quick dig in his pockets and pulled out a necklace and stringed it on his neck. Corwin looked at him as if he was made. "Hey, it's said it to be good luck!"
"Zack," Corwin demanded. "Get on that consol and get on Security Central!"
Zack pulled his hands up innocently, looking straight into the lieutenant's steady gaze. "Hey, okay, okay," he said innocently, pressing on the figures on the screen. A channel opened on waiting for Security Chief Garibaldi to reply on it. "I'm on it, geez, it wasn't like I was doing anything...secuirty?"
Crowin rolled his eyes at Mr. Allen's innocent remarks. He heard Garibaldi grumble a "Garibaldi here." He then watched as Zack lowered his tone and leaned over seriously. "Yeah, Chief? It's Zack from C&C," he told him. "Say, you picking up a disturbance at in at Cargo Bay Three...yeah, that...no, it ain't no cargo vial explosion, it was a lo-tech neutreno pulse burst...yeah, security's on it, sir but we can't get through...yeah, okay. Allen out."
"And?" Corwin asked, eyebrows raised up, arms folded.
"He said he's going down there himself,"
Corwin jumped back to his post and opened a channel. Zack watched from his consol at what the lieutenant commander was doing. He then frowned when Corwin was up and about, from this to this to this consol. "Corwin, what are you doing?" he demanded.
"I'm opening a link to Captain Sheridan, but he isn't responding," he told him seriously, looking back at the sergeant. "Looks like we're on our own on this situation. I am going to call for some technicians to try to go through the doors, which apparently they locked. Zack, if you don't mind---"
"Hum, hum, hum," Zack meditated.
"Zack!" Corwin demanded. "Zack, snap out of it! We have work to accomplish and you won't help us by humming there when the station can do it itself." But Zack didn't reply and continued to hum and meditate on his consol chair. Corwin shook his head and brought up his link. "Corwin to Technical Group Four, head down in Cargo Bay Three to open doors."
He turned back at Allen. "Stranger things has happened."
They grunted their way out of the cramp conduits. Ivanova was the last the pop out, her body tightened from the tight conduit that she allowed herself to just drop. Slam! She crashed and met the floor with a resounding thud. She still held the gun, her body aching all over.
"That was one hell of a bomb," she commented, climbing to her feet. She heard voices, no! More Hak'Vir! What did they bring, their entire race? She dragged them over behind some crates and into the darkness. Max groaned at the unwelcoming damp-ness as he shuddered till Ivanova motioned they were clear.
Max slumped at the pain and pressed his forehead in pressure.
Marcus bent down, examining his forehead injury. "Max? Are you alright?"
He glared at the ranger. "Am I alright?" he replied, his voice rising hysterically. "I have a bleeding gash on my forehead the size of Mt. Olympus that might make me fall into a concussion and you're asking me if I'm alright? Hah! I'm touched by your concern, Mr. Cole."
"Shut up, Eilerson," Ivanova snipped from behind the crates, still monitoring their position and their surroundings for anything unexpected. "You'll draw attention and then we'll either be hanging by our throats or our throats will be slitted from ear to ear. What'll it be?"
He mimicked her sour face but said nothing as he put pressure on his head.
Marcus slid over to Ivanova's side. "What happened?" he asked her.
She shook her head. "Lots of smoke," she replied unevenly. "Must have gave the Hak'Vir one hell of a shot. Max dashed over to get something, and I must have shouted out at him. Firing aimlessly began and Max must have slammed into the head. I dragged him and your no-excuse of a ranger body to the conduit and I think we lost them---"
"Then who are they?" Marcus whispered, pointing at the other Hak'Vir.
She shrugged. "I haven't made up my mind on that," she replied. "Either they have one hell of a huge crew or they decided to drag their entire planetary popula- tion over to Babylon 5." She shook her head again and reloaded her gun. "Max! What did you take from there that nearly killed you in the process?"
Max fumbled into his jacket pocket and pulled out a shiny black box and held it up as if it were a sacred urn. "This," he replied with a glimmer of pride. "This was what my entire journey was worth for. Anyone would kill for this little black baby..."
"A box?" Marcus cried incerdulously, confirming Ivanova's silent thoughts. "You came all the way from Earth, risked your life through this, even paid an extra ten credits---" Max began to squirm. "---all for one lousy, slim, no-use of a box?
And you're paid how much?!"
"For your information, Mr. Cole," Max said arrogantly, "first of all, this isn't lousy or useless." He opened it to reveal two beautiful heavy-gold bracelets with such design and such heavy regard. It glimmered despite the poor lightings given. Marcus and Ivanova gaped and awed before looking at each other with surprise. "This," Max continued, "is a legendary artifact from the remaining of the Salari royal family on the little planet we had sited. Hell, it's worth more than anything and apparently belongs to the Hak'Vir...or so they say."
"Wow," Ivanova awed, "anyone would kill for it."
"Yes," Max replied all-knowingly. "And second of all, Mr. Cole, I am being paid enough to live quite confortably unlike you and that damned pike of yours. Surely you can be paid better than that." He frowned slightly as he closed the box again. Marcus glared at him.
"Excuse me, Mr. Eilerson," Marcus snapped, "but for your information, I do not get paid. Second of all, I live quite confortably all right in this little world of mine and third of all, I do not need someone who gets paid handsomely, let alone from IPX, nothing personal, to tell me of my problems in life!"
"Excuse me!" Max cried.
If it weren't for Ivanova sliding in between them, they would have gotten caught. "Excuse me," she hissed venomously. "But if you don't mind, I'd love to carry on this discussion, but not right now. As you can see, we've got Hak'Vir behind us and we're Down Below. So stop arguing who's king of the hill and let's get the hell back up!"
That silenced them. They returned to their natural post.
"Damn," Marcus cursed above a whisper.
Ivanova craned her head. "What is it, Marcus?" she asked.
He pointed at three men, laughing and drinking. Their clothes were filthy, old, ragged. Looked like they dressed in sack, cloth and ashes. He didn't looked very amused, or happy at that matter. "Those men," he pointed out, "are part of the Amsterdam gang."
"Oh, just great," Ivanova snickered, "we got to get out of here!"
"The question is," Max interrupted, "is how."
Marcus found some cloaks. He tossed it onto Ivanova's head and body. It smelled hideously, as if a rat just died in it and then it wasn't cleaned properly. She scowled at Marcus as she ticked off some pieces of hay---hay?---onto the floor. "Marcus," she rasped angrily, "this is no time for dress up time."
"It isn't a dress up," he replied, "it's a disguise. They'll recodnize your uniforms and march off. Max," he called, but he was too busy looking anguishly at the gang. He then plucked the IPX symbol insignia on his nice suit. Max twisted a scowl at Marcus.
"Marcus!" he cried angrily.
"They'll recodnize that too," he said at him, tugging on the sleeve. He looked back at the gang. Drunk. Perfect. It was going to work perfectly according to his thoughts. "Lose the jacket, Max."
"Wha---Marcus!" Max cried. "This was worth five hundred credits!"
"Lose the jacket, Eilerson," Ivanova monotoned. She darted a glare at the IPX member. "They'll decide to pick-pocket you at any rate. The more you look civilian, the less noticable you're be...Marcus, what about you?" But he was already covering himself with his cloak hood. He looked like the grim reaper, making her shiver. "Gosh, Marcus, you're going to make me suffer a heart-attack."
Marcus grinned from beneath the covers. "Well, that tells how well I am dressed, now aren't I?" He watched her roll her eyes before he said, "Okay, this is what we're going to do---"
CHAPTER FIVE
Delenn entered the bustling noise of the chambers. The ambassadors were very frisky at the moment and were also very protestant. There, at the front of them all, was Sheridan, tired and snappish as he rolled his eyes and rubbed his temples.
"Captain---" Drazi ambassador. "What if they attack homeworld?"
Sheridan was about to reply, but when he caught Delenn's gaze, he stopped his retort and instead said warily, "I'll leave that on to discuss later," he growled. "This meeting is adjourned." He hit the hammer onto the wooden block.
The restless ambassadors walked off, talking amoungst each other. Delenn glided over to Sheridan's side and smiled. "Hello John," she greeted pleasantly, looking straight into his eyes kindly. "I came to check up on you."
He stirred in his seat. "I'm okay, Delenn."
"No, you're not," she insisted gently. "Lt. Corwin and Zack are rather worried about you, John. They say you're crabby, grouchy and inexplicably...as you humans would say, "stressed out." " She took his hand gently. "You must rest captain,"
"Delenn, I---"
"Your work will not go anywhere, John," she told him. "But your mind will. In your "heaven" if you keep on pushing yourself like this. The ambassadors are acting like babies, yes, but you mustn't push youself to take care of them. It is time they "grow up.""
"I suppose so." John patted her hand and smiled. "They can wait."
Delenn nodded as he got to his feet. "Say," he said, "it's almost lunch and I'm starved. Since Ivanova's down worrying about the Hak'Vir, why won't you join me for lunch. I know this terrfic place," he added, then paused. "Oh! Unless you have something else to do."
She nodded. "I will be honoured."
"Please, calm down!" Ivanova's voice boomed throughout the conference room. It was a long, slim table. On either side of the commander was Marcus and Max Eilerson, who was right now, very enraged at what the hak'Vir had said. Infront of them was the representative of the party; Counselor M'kat and his collegue who hasn't spoken a word since their arrival.
Silence; Ivanova sighed. "We are not going to go anywhere if you keep shouting like this!" she snapped angrily. "Now, Counselor, you must understand that my friend and I are only mediating for you. It was not IPX's fault that a piece of an unknown gang tried to steal the cargo."
"I do not know the intentions of IPX," M'kat snipped. "We were ensured that Babylon 5 is the perfect place to make the trade, away from raiders and pirates of that sort. Now you tell me someone wants the cargo and is here? And what is the use of this...Ranger here? He is not known for the intention of mediating. Perhaps spying."
"Ridiculous," Max said out loud. "First of all, it is a safe enivorment full of negotiations, you may call, a haven for diplomacy. Second of all, this information was pumped through some second-hand ways and that we assure you, no one really monitors Down Below. Anything can happen down there. You, my honourable Hak'Vir, most of all, are hallucinating things. My friend here is no spy. And I will have whoever I want by my side. Is that so much to ask?!"
Ivanova rolled her eyes. Oh, the tempation to blurt, "Actually, it is!" but refrained from that comment and instead focused on the two Hak'Vir. She cleared her throat diplomatically and clasped her hands together. "Now, Counselor," she said in a serious tone. "I suggest that we end this as quickly as possible. We have to get this cargo off this station before someone else does. Any questions?"
"None." A snarl.
"Good," she replied. "Mr. Cole and I will personally be supervising the entire operation with Mr. Eilerson, in case he decides to run off with your credits." Max smiled at her cheesily. "As well," she added on, ignoring him, "you will be fined an extra ten credits."
The counselor slammed his palm flat on the table. The table shuddered with a whining resistance. He was enfuried. His red eyes were now flaming like one huge bonfire in the middle fo a forest. As he should be. "What is this extra ten credits for?" he snarled.
Ivanova remained calm as she could. "Oh, maybe because I could use an extra ten credits," she teased. "Because the fact that I personally placed men there to guard it. I need to pay these guys. As well as you, Max. You are also paying an extra ten credits for the safe delivery of this cargo."
"Commander!" he cried in protest.
"Ten credits or I will personally dump that cargo into empty space," she stated firmly. The two sides muttered a yes sir before dropping down heavily on their chairs. Max seemed unhappy but none the less he tried to hide it. But the counselor was unfuriated by this sudden addition to the sum in which they already had to pay.
The counselor muttered something in their language. He then smiled and turned back to the commander and the two. Uh-oh, this wasn't good. Marcus had a free hand ready to grab his pike, and that Ivanova could see. His moves were perfectly co-ordinated. They both knew it. But just in case, Ivanova was ready to kick some Hak'Vir butt.
"I'm afraid we don't have that much money."
Max, out of all the people. "Then you don't get it."
The counselor smiled again. "You leave me no choice," he said, strangely at ease. "Unfortunately, you've just recieved your last cheque, Mr. Eilerson." He suddenly shot out a gun and aimed it at Eilerson. Marcus and Ivanova pulled him just enough for the gun to shoot the wall. Dust and smog billowed all around, making it hard to see.
Ivanova, Marcus and Max slammed onto the deck, where there wasn't that much smog and mist. Ivanova, the only one with a link, raised it to her lips and said, "Ivanova to C&C! Ivanova to Security Central! Can you respond?" she demanded, but nor reply. Static. She slammed it. "Damn! We're going to have to do this the old fashion way."
They spotted a quick set of footsteps hurried to the door before disappearing. "They just left the main doors," she told them. "Follow me." The three crawled to the doors until they could finally see. They got to their feet to see the two Hak'Vir running off. "Stop!"
Ivanova grabbed a gun from a stand and trooped off. Marcus activated his fighting pike, nearly hitting Max in the head. "Hey, watch where you're setting that off at!" he protested as they ran after their fleeing suppose-to-be-killers. He fought the panic. "Sorry!" he panted.
The lift shut. "Dammit!" Ivanova said beneath her breath.
"I think I know where they're headed," Marcus said, tugging at Ivanova's sleeve. "Come with me." They started to run again, passing by civilians. Where were all the officers when you needed them? He led them to some shafts with their doors not yet opened.
"C'mon, Marcus," Max whined. "It's a shaft. Big deal. You're just going to kill my limbs in the process. And then what will happen? I'll be happening to be paying another thrity credits for a ten minute skin-tight journey through the tight shafts of Babylon 5."
Ivanova ignored Max's incompetant whining. Beside her, Marcus broke into a sunny-side grin. Ivanova ever so wondered why she had to team up with these two in the first place. Max, the biggest ego in the entire universe paired up with a 24 hour annoying machine Marcus and a headstrong executive offiver. Pretty team they got there.
"This shaft leads to the cargo bays," Marcus explained proudly.
Commander Ivanova snapped her fingers. "Of course!" she cried in realization, clasping a hand on his shoulder. "Marcus, you're a genius!" she complimented. "The Hak'Vir obviously dosen't want to pay another ten credits to an ever-expanding profit margin, so they must be headed to the cargo bays to get the cargo off themselves. Brilliant thinking, Marcus."
Marcus beamed proudly. "Told you I learned the components and maps."
They struggled a grueling ten minutes in the cramp shafts with Ivanova wiggling in the lead. Marcus trailed not far behind, crawling the same narrow and tight compartment as he followed the commander through the compartment. Behind Marcus was Max, grumbing and sweating and was totally bummed out as he ended the quest by coming out last.
"As of right now, you owe me ten credits," he huffed wearily, massaging his exhausted limbs. "Babylon 5 is suppose to be a space-like enviorment but apparently by that journey we just did it's more than that. There's more tight spaces here than anywhere else in the galaxy; no wonder so many come here to smuggle practically anything around here---"
A slam and a clutter. Marcus dropped on all fours behind some cargo boxes and rolled to give them space. Ivanova pulled on Max's suit and pulled his down to hide them. The clamour continued madly. Max was now panic-striken. "Where's your guards? Isn't there suppose to be any around here?"
They peered through the cracks of the cargo bays in between. The Hak'Vir decided to bring more of their friends. Cluttering up on the floor was their unconcsious security guards, their guns kicked all the way and were now in the hands of the Hak'Vir. The sight made Ivanova burn and she tightened the grip on her gun. The only weapons they had were a gun and a Minbari fighting pike against seven armed Hak'Vir with bony foreheads that might kill the knuckles. Apparently, they were unloading the IPX cargo and shipping it to their ship.
"My cargo!" Max cried. "They have no right---!"
"Shut up, Eilerson!" Marcus and Ivanova hissed in unison. That made Eilerson huddle up and remain silent. Ivanova narrowed her eyes at the sight before her. Impossible odds. Maybe she might make it out, or maybe Marcus, but certainly not both. What chance did they have against seven armed to the bone Hak'Vir? Eilerson certainly wouldn't make it for sure. "Even if we make a run for it, the odds are second to none," she said to Marcus.
"You got a better idea?" Marcus had it in his eyes; fear.
"No." She settled down and looked at the box index; some craters of some low-tech bombs ment for some initiative battle in the future for any missions dis-embarking. Ivanova settled down for a moment, an idea stirring. Low-tech bombs, just enough to confuse the enemy and make a hit for them. Oh, this was going to be good. "Never mind---yes. Chances are we might not make it, but it's worth a shot. Better than sitting here."
"Couldn't we just sit here?" Max asked from his small little huddle.
Ivanova shot him a glance, a glare, but it was Marcus that gave her a wistful amount of support to see it through. "Well," Marcus said wistfully, "whatever it may be better be a doozy." He paused, listening. "If I'm going to die, I'm going to inflict some pain first." He gestured to the crates before Ivanova and tipped his head slightly. "On you lead, Commander."
They took a moment to open the craters and pull out some nice-looking egg shells. It was just like a 20th century war grenade only instead of gunpowder, it was filled with a lo-tech amount of energy burst. Just enough to fill the room with smog and make a hit for the enemy. Ivanova nodded at Marcus, who had three more of the grenades in his hand. He nodded back. "Ready when you are."
"One---" she began counting.
Max ducted for cover. "Why do I have a feeling I'm gonna hate this?"
"Two---" she continued.
Marcus placed his fingernail on the key.
"Three!" They ripped the keys off and threw the grenades aimlessly to the outside. Explosion rocked the entire cargo bay. The last thing Ivanova remembered was Marcus plopping ontop of her in protection as the rest of the crates above them toppled onton them. Then...darkness.
"I'm picking up a sudden burst of neutreno," Allen said, looking up at Corwin, whom stood at the command post that faced the observation window like a statue for the last hour or so. Zack gingerly turned around and faced the stiffened lieutenant. "Corwin..."
Corwin blinked and turned to face Zack. "An explosion?"
"Looks like it," Allen confirmed. "Low-tech or so. Apparently, it was hit off at cargo bay three..."
"Cargo bay three?!" Corwin dashed to his computer consol and checked out the controls. He turned back at Zack. "Zack, there's an IPX ship docked there!" He hit his communications. "Communications' down. Computer's picking up some Hak'Vir down there; didn't they arrive because of that trade with the IPX?"
"I don't know," Zack replied. "This day keeps on getting worse and worse."
"Zack!" Corwin scolded as he shifted over so another consol and began fiddling away. He then checked his headset and then back again. "Security's jammed up," he reported. "No movement. Zack...what on earth are you doing?" He looked at Zack's strange face as he hummed back and forth. No reply. "Zack!"
"Shush," Zack hissed. "I meditating."
"Meditating?! On the Command Deck?!" Corwin demanded. He sighed and strolled over to where Zack was meditating strangely and shook him gently. "Hey, Zack! You're on Babylon 5 if you don't remember. You're in C&C right now and we have a crisis to avert!"
"Not when everything else is jinxing us!"
"Forget the jinx, the bad luck and all that stuff and focus on the prob---"
"Today's Friday the thirteenth?!" Zack shreeched from his consol, catching a glance of the date. He made a quick dig in his pockets and pulled out a necklace and stringed it on his neck. Corwin looked at him as if he was made. "Hey, it's said it to be good luck!"
"Zack," Corwin demanded. "Get on that consol and get on Security Central!"
Zack pulled his hands up innocently, looking straight into the lieutenant's steady gaze. "Hey, okay, okay," he said innocently, pressing on the figures on the screen. A channel opened on waiting for Security Chief Garibaldi to reply on it. "I'm on it, geez, it wasn't like I was doing anything...secuirty?"
Crowin rolled his eyes at Mr. Allen's innocent remarks. He heard Garibaldi grumble a "Garibaldi here." He then watched as Zack lowered his tone and leaned over seriously. "Yeah, Chief? It's Zack from C&C," he told him. "Say, you picking up a disturbance at in at Cargo Bay Three...yeah, that...no, it ain't no cargo vial explosion, it was a lo-tech neutreno pulse burst...yeah, security's on it, sir but we can't get through...yeah, okay. Allen out."
"And?" Corwin asked, eyebrows raised up, arms folded.
"He said he's going down there himself,"
Corwin jumped back to his post and opened a channel. Zack watched from his consol at what the lieutenant commander was doing. He then frowned when Corwin was up and about, from this to this to this consol. "Corwin, what are you doing?" he demanded.
"I'm opening a link to Captain Sheridan, but he isn't responding," he told him seriously, looking back at the sergeant. "Looks like we're on our own on this situation. I am going to call for some technicians to try to go through the doors, which apparently they locked. Zack, if you don't mind---"
"Hum, hum, hum," Zack meditated.
"Zack!" Corwin demanded. "Zack, snap out of it! We have work to accomplish and you won't help us by humming there when the station can do it itself." But Zack didn't reply and continued to hum and meditate on his consol chair. Corwin shook his head and brought up his link. "Corwin to Technical Group Four, head down in Cargo Bay Three to open doors."
He turned back at Allen. "Stranger things has happened."
They grunted their way out of the cramp conduits. Ivanova was the last the pop out, her body tightened from the tight conduit that she allowed herself to just drop. Slam! She crashed and met the floor with a resounding thud. She still held the gun, her body aching all over.
"That was one hell of a bomb," she commented, climbing to her feet. She heard voices, no! More Hak'Vir! What did they bring, their entire race? She dragged them over behind some crates and into the darkness. Max groaned at the unwelcoming damp-ness as he shuddered till Ivanova motioned they were clear.
Max slumped at the pain and pressed his forehead in pressure.
Marcus bent down, examining his forehead injury. "Max? Are you alright?"
He glared at the ranger. "Am I alright?" he replied, his voice rising hysterically. "I have a bleeding gash on my forehead the size of Mt. Olympus that might make me fall into a concussion and you're asking me if I'm alright? Hah! I'm touched by your concern, Mr. Cole."
"Shut up, Eilerson," Ivanova snipped from behind the crates, still monitoring their position and their surroundings for anything unexpected. "You'll draw attention and then we'll either be hanging by our throats or our throats will be slitted from ear to ear. What'll it be?"
He mimicked her sour face but said nothing as he put pressure on his head.
Marcus slid over to Ivanova's side. "What happened?" he asked her.
She shook her head. "Lots of smoke," she replied unevenly. "Must have gave the Hak'Vir one hell of a shot. Max dashed over to get something, and I must have shouted out at him. Firing aimlessly began and Max must have slammed into the head. I dragged him and your no-excuse of a ranger body to the conduit and I think we lost them---"
"Then who are they?" Marcus whispered, pointing at the other Hak'Vir.
She shrugged. "I haven't made up my mind on that," she replied. "Either they have one hell of a huge crew or they decided to drag their entire planetary popula- tion over to Babylon 5." She shook her head again and reloaded her gun. "Max! What did you take from there that nearly killed you in the process?"
Max fumbled into his jacket pocket and pulled out a shiny black box and held it up as if it were a sacred urn. "This," he replied with a glimmer of pride. "This was what my entire journey was worth for. Anyone would kill for this little black baby..."
"A box?" Marcus cried incerdulously, confirming Ivanova's silent thoughts. "You came all the way from Earth, risked your life through this, even paid an extra ten credits---" Max began to squirm. "---all for one lousy, slim, no-use of a box?
And you're paid how much?!"
"For your information, Mr. Cole," Max said arrogantly, "first of all, this isn't lousy or useless." He opened it to reveal two beautiful heavy-gold bracelets with such design and such heavy regard. It glimmered despite the poor lightings given. Marcus and Ivanova gaped and awed before looking at each other with surprise. "This," Max continued, "is a legendary artifact from the remaining of the Salari royal family on the little planet we had sited. Hell, it's worth more than anything and apparently belongs to the Hak'Vir...or so they say."
"Wow," Ivanova awed, "anyone would kill for it."
"Yes," Max replied all-knowingly. "And second of all, Mr. Cole, I am being paid enough to live quite confortably unlike you and that damned pike of yours. Surely you can be paid better than that." He frowned slightly as he closed the box again. Marcus glared at him.
"Excuse me, Mr. Eilerson," Marcus snapped, "but for your information, I do not get paid. Second of all, I live quite confortably all right in this little world of mine and third of all, I do not need someone who gets paid handsomely, let alone from IPX, nothing personal, to tell me of my problems in life!"
"Excuse me!" Max cried.
If it weren't for Ivanova sliding in between them, they would have gotten caught. "Excuse me," she hissed venomously. "But if you don't mind, I'd love to carry on this discussion, but not right now. As you can see, we've got Hak'Vir behind us and we're Down Below. So stop arguing who's king of the hill and let's get the hell back up!"
That silenced them. They returned to their natural post.
"Damn," Marcus cursed above a whisper.
Ivanova craned her head. "What is it, Marcus?" she asked.
He pointed at three men, laughing and drinking. Their clothes were filthy, old, ragged. Looked like they dressed in sack, cloth and ashes. He didn't looked very amused, or happy at that matter. "Those men," he pointed out, "are part of the Amsterdam gang."
"Oh, just great," Ivanova snickered, "we got to get out of here!"
"The question is," Max interrupted, "is how."
Marcus found some cloaks. He tossed it onto Ivanova's head and body. It smelled hideously, as if a rat just died in it and then it wasn't cleaned properly. She scowled at Marcus as she ticked off some pieces of hay---hay?---onto the floor. "Marcus," she rasped angrily, "this is no time for dress up time."
"It isn't a dress up," he replied, "it's a disguise. They'll recodnize your uniforms and march off. Max," he called, but he was too busy looking anguishly at the gang. He then plucked the IPX symbol insignia on his nice suit. Max twisted a scowl at Marcus.
"Marcus!" he cried angrily.
"They'll recodnize that too," he said at him, tugging on the sleeve. He looked back at the gang. Drunk. Perfect. It was going to work perfectly according to his thoughts. "Lose the jacket, Max."
"Wha---Marcus!" Max cried. "This was worth five hundred credits!"
"Lose the jacket, Eilerson," Ivanova monotoned. She darted a glare at the IPX member. "They'll decide to pick-pocket you at any rate. The more you look civilian, the less noticable you're be...Marcus, what about you?" But he was already covering himself with his cloak hood. He looked like the grim reaper, making her shiver. "Gosh, Marcus, you're going to make me suffer a heart-attack."
Marcus grinned from beneath the covers. "Well, that tells how well I am dressed, now aren't I?" He watched her roll her eyes before he said, "Okay, this is what we're going to do---"