Here's the third chapter. Enjoy!
CHAPTER TWO
The station was more devestating to see. Blown consols, scorched hulls, hanging wires to hissing conduits, the place put up quite a fight. Gideon focused the beams to where Dureena and another officer was wrestling to get the lifts open to C&C. "Any luck?"
Dureena, sooty and sweaty, scowled at the captain before wiping her forehead. "Oh, very bad choice of words, captain," she clipped, looking at the doors. "The doors been pressurized and is sealed shut. Damn, and the controls aren't even working. The place is a mess, captain!" Her scowl deepened. "I don't see the point of going up there."
"One reason, Dureena," he snipped back at her angry words. "To search for survivors. Stop thinking of the Drakh and start thinking of a way in! There are people trapped throughout the station. There has to be survivors up there." Please let Lochley survive this entire damned mess, he added to himself.
His voice must have gotten through for she gritted her teeth, her yellow eyes flashing as she grunted and returned to the doors to try to get them opened. The officer, now poofed out, decided to struggle back. Angered by this, Dureena swung her dagger out and stabbed the metal bit by bit.
Little by little, the doors' metal combustion began to degrade, and Gideon could have sworn to feel a breeze coming through. Finally, the door loosened and it swung open. The lift was as messy and hot as it was througout the station. He turned to his crew. "Geralin, Klyde, Ungantae, you're with me. The rest, stay behind and keep searching for survivors."
"Aye, sir."
In command. They strode into the lift. Dureena, tired and hot, decided to lean on the wall and recover her balance. Gideon and Ensign Malacite Klyde tucked their flashlights away as they began to pull on the rudder manually. Lt. Audrey Geralin and Dr. Frake Ungantae decided to take a rest as well.
At the end of the line, both Klyde and Gideon were exhausted, beads of sweat rolling down their foreheads. They recovered their flashlights and their rifles as they sought their way through the doors to C&C. The doors gave in and it swung open.
C&C was a smashed mess. Smoke billowed from consols. Consols' were burnt and sparks flew in the air. The stench of fear, blood and sweat was amoung them all. Bodies littered throughout the stations, on the floors, propped on chairs. One by one, they checked their life signs. Two dead as far as it went.
Gideon was on his way to the viewscreen when he encounted a pile of blood and nearly stumbled on a blue earthforce uniform. Long auburn hair. He recodnized the lucid eyes that were facing the ceiling, her hands on a gaping wound as her fingers tried to put pressure to the wound. He dropped his rifle and his flashlight immediately and dropped to his knees. It was Lochley.
He gathered her into his arms, propping her up to let her breath a little. She was gasping for the air; good. At least it ment she was still alive. He looked down on her face. Fatigue, command, confidence, horror, pain, fear...it all engulfed her face. He could almost feel it as much as he could see it, as if an electric current passed them by. It always had. It might always be.
"Matthew..." Her voice was rasping like a whisper in the wind.
He fought panic. "I'm here, Elizabeth," he hushed. "I'm here. You're going to be okay. The Excalibur's here. You're going to get help, okay?" He cradled her head and looked up, pass the smoke. "Dr. Ungantae! I need you, now! I found Captain Lochley!"
Ungantae rushed over, with Dureena by his side. He flipped out a scanner and scanned Lochley's twisted body. His face became more and more worse. His mouth became a thin hard line as he watched the data flow into the screen. Gideon refused to expect the worst. No, not after all that's happened. Not after he lost the Cerebrus...
"Her vital signs are critical," he finally reported. "She's lucky she came through all of this. She's suffering from shock and trauma. She's lost alot of blood, sir and she's suffering from a hemmerage to her side...if I don't get her to a Medlab soon enough...she'll die." His face shone what Gideon was worrying about.
"Get a stretcher," he ordered faintly. "Get her down there."
"Aye sir." He hustled away.
Gideon looked down at Lochley. "Don't worry," he told her softly. "I'm going to get you out of this. I'll get you to Medlab and you're be back to your old, grouchy and commanding self again." To his surprise, she managed a faint smile that made him smile too. He refused to think she'll die.
"I have ears, Matt," she whispered faintly. "I heard of my condition." She managed to focus her lucid eyes up at him. "You came. That was...unexpected."
"Not exactly knight in shining armour, but..."
She managed to smile, but her fatigue was enormous. Her soft features were sharpened at her cheekbones and her chin. Dark circles engulfed below her eyes. Her eyes were red and tired. Her body seemed lighter than usual. Whatever it was he was carrying. "Don't push it," she managed to whisper.
That made him smile. "What happened?"
Her eyes were filled with fright. "They were all around us, surrounding us," she said, her voice trembling. "We tried...I tried, to push them back while I could. But there were so many of them. They kept punching us and I had to...evacuate the station." She shook her head, fighting the demons off. "I was able to cripple some of the ships but some came back on us. I ordered the glass window to be shut, but I got caught and..."
"It's okay," he conforted soothingly. "It's over. I'm here."
Dureena watched as Gideon whispered confort to her. She never saw him so...conforting. All of a sudden, this nice side just appeared in him that she feared she will never see again. At least not directed to her face but to that injured captain who now lay in the heap. She turned away; this was getting too...touchy.
A stretcher arrived as the medics gently lifted the injured Lochley onto the stretcher. Gideon was still there, holding her hand, promising he won't let go. Dureena vaguely saw through the thick smoke, but saw her say something before the medics left the command center, the link broken, Gideon left behind.
"She must mean something," she commented, against her will.
He turned sharply at her; now she was to be humiliated. Thank goodness for all the smog. What was wrong with her? She was damned nosy, but that came with her job as a thief; Mr. Eilerson's "noble profession, the second oldest in the book." She watched her captain's complextion; it changed.
"Found anything?"
She fumbled through her knotted fingers and held up a data crystal. "Recordings of the battle," she stated tightly. "I found it at one of the officer's bodies. An ensign. Apparently, he's dead now and I guess he wanted someone to find the recordings." She feebly handed it to her captain's outstretched palm.
He studied it before handing it back. "Return to the Excalibur and have it analyzed," he ordered. The smog began to drift away as more stretchers arrived for the other crewmen's bodies. This was hell. This was Lochley's station. Lochley's crew. Her side of the galaxy and out of all the targets, this place was been picked. Why here? Why now?
Throughout his life, he had seen the enemy attack here and there. He saw a strange ship kill his crew, later to be involved in the Shadow war and that it was a shadow that had crippled his vessel and destroyed it. He watched as he was saved by the mysterious technomage Galen. Now his homeworld was stormed in and contaminated by the drakh virus and he was searching for a cure to the virulent one. And now he stands in the command deck of the one he fell for littered with bodies and scorched with gun power from the enemy?
"Captain?" Dureena asked. "Anything else?"
He blinked. "No," he stuttered. "That'll be all."
"God, this place was even in much worse condition than last time," Max remarked as he and Chambers walked down the corridors, searching for anything at all. They had left their crew over to find the rest of the personel while the two headed Down Below.
"Last time?" Chambers asked, her eyes puckish. "Last time, your wife..." He glanced at her dryly making her correct it, "your ex-wife was being chased by that Adolf guy whom she owed. Funny, that was only... what?...a few weeks ago and when we return, only to find it devastated." She faced him. "You never told me how you scared him off though."
He glanced at her. "A man never shows the key to all his tricks."
"A man should never hide all the truths, Max."
"That may be so," he countered. "But frankly, dear doctor, I still have all my cards at hand and none has been played."
"Only because you are the most self-serving."
"I only follow profit and motive," he defended huffily, his face coloured with the idea. He seemed to be remembering something behind his eyes. What was it? Chambers couldn't get anywhere closer to what he was thinking. Gosh, then they'll realize what a big mushy he was then.
"I don't understand how you ever got this job," she sighed.
He stopped as she continued to stide, unaware of his sudden stop. Red fourteen. He was here before. Yes, he was. That time when he was a representative for IPX to the Hak'Vir. Noble race. A man with a dark beard. The same mouth. He was remembering, yes. He remembered the same words spoken;
"How the hell did they ever let you into this business in the first place?!" he shouted at him that day.
"Same reason how you got into the Rangers," was his retort. A Ranger, yes. It had been almost nine years ago when he met that Ranger. He was thankful he had came, otherwise, he wouldnn't be here right now. Little did he know whatever happened afterwards, only that he was in direct contact with the great Shadow war. He wanted to check whatever happened to him afterwards, but he never had the time to check. Or maybe because he never bothered to.
"Max?"
"Max? Are you alright?" the ranger asked him.
"Does it look like I'm alright?" he replied. "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 at your concern, Mr. Cole."
Cole, yes, that was his name. Ranger Cole. What was his first name?
"Shut up, Mr. Eilerson," came a woman's voice. "You'll draw attention and then we'll be either hanging by our throats or our throats slitted from ear to ear. How will it be?"
Yes, the Ranger's friend. A...commander of some kind. Earthforce commander, of course! The lady friend of his forgotten ranger friend. The one Cole fell for considerably head over heels over but never mustered up to say it to her face. He wondered whatever happened to those two? Promoted, perhaps. Married? Fifty, fifty.
"Max?" Chambers said, over him. "Are you alright?"
He blinked out of the warp. "Sarah?"
She smiled kindly. Surprisingly. But her eyes were filled with concern. "You okay, there?" she asked. "I mean, you seemed pretty far at that moment. Is there something wrong?" She looked at him again with concern of a doctor...or a friend? "Do you want to talk about it?"
He shook his head. "I was just---remembering," he told her stalely. "The first time I came here on Babylon 5." He smiled small. "It was quite---quite a time I had." He looked at the sign: red fourteen. "I had an interesting arguement here that time."
"You had an arguement here? Hah! That's an understatement!"
"It lasted for over thirteen hours strait," he added.
She dropped her jaw. "Thirteen hours, Max?!" she demanded. Unbelieveable. She knew the man was a blabbermouth, but never so straight forward for over thirteen hours straight! Her doctor side said impossible but the other was keen in interest. "Max, how many years ago was this?" she asked.
"Almost six years ago now," he told her lightly, distantly.
"The man who argued must have had a good time," she commented.
"Yes," he agreed distantly. "It was...he saved my life. Him and his earthforce friend of his. I owed him mines." He shook his head. "Once I left this station, weeks later, news channel broadcast reported that Babylon 5 became independant. I never heard from him ever again. He was linked with the war. He was a Ranger."
"Tell me everything, Max," she told him.
"Well..."
"Gotta hand it to you, Lieutenant," Trace said as he pulled on his spacesuit, "you've got a good team here." Matheson winced at the compliment as he pulled together his own gear on. Minutes later they will be in space and were going to be conducting their search for the pods that left from the station.
"I suppose so, Mr. Miller," he agreed. buckling his boots.
"So, our mission is to find the life pods...only?"
Matheson looked up. he feared that even if he told him two million times, he still wouldn't have gotten it. "Yes, Mr. Miller," he told him relentlessly all over again. "We are only going out in the Starfuries to collect all the life pods that were ejected from Babylon 5...unless you plan to crash land on Epsilon 3. They're kind, simple folk, I have heard."
Miller scowled as he finished buckling his silver enviormental jacket. "What's I'd like to know," he said out loud, "is how you get to go out on Starfuries. I know, I heard you're qualified for such a gig, but didn't Earthforce pass a rule not for telepaths to go off the ship? No offence or anything."
The lieutenant rolled his eyes. What kind of wingman was he going to have, a questioning one? Might as well answer it. "Yes, the new PsiCorps rule passed it down," he replied as he finished buckling his shiny white boots; or was it gray? "But the rule does not apply to this sort of situation."
"It must be a nice change for you, Lieutenant," he remarked. "Not holding down the fort for once."
Matheson wanted to blurt, "Of course!" but instead replied, "Yes, it is." He then got up and took out his sphere cover for his head and pulled on the gloves onto his hands. "Well," he told Trace, "it's time to go. You will be on Beta Two, my wingman. You have your orders and don't try anything stupid."
"Yes sir." In command. Him as a wingman. How interesting.
CHAPTER TWO
The station was more devestating to see. Blown consols, scorched hulls, hanging wires to hissing conduits, the place put up quite a fight. Gideon focused the beams to where Dureena and another officer was wrestling to get the lifts open to C&C. "Any luck?"
Dureena, sooty and sweaty, scowled at the captain before wiping her forehead. "Oh, very bad choice of words, captain," she clipped, looking at the doors. "The doors been pressurized and is sealed shut. Damn, and the controls aren't even working. The place is a mess, captain!" Her scowl deepened. "I don't see the point of going up there."
"One reason, Dureena," he snipped back at her angry words. "To search for survivors. Stop thinking of the Drakh and start thinking of a way in! There are people trapped throughout the station. There has to be survivors up there." Please let Lochley survive this entire damned mess, he added to himself.
His voice must have gotten through for she gritted her teeth, her yellow eyes flashing as she grunted and returned to the doors to try to get them opened. The officer, now poofed out, decided to struggle back. Angered by this, Dureena swung her dagger out and stabbed the metal bit by bit.
Little by little, the doors' metal combustion began to degrade, and Gideon could have sworn to feel a breeze coming through. Finally, the door loosened and it swung open. The lift was as messy and hot as it was througout the station. He turned to his crew. "Geralin, Klyde, Ungantae, you're with me. The rest, stay behind and keep searching for survivors."
"Aye, sir."
In command. They strode into the lift. Dureena, tired and hot, decided to lean on the wall and recover her balance. Gideon and Ensign Malacite Klyde tucked their flashlights away as they began to pull on the rudder manually. Lt. Audrey Geralin and Dr. Frake Ungantae decided to take a rest as well.
At the end of the line, both Klyde and Gideon were exhausted, beads of sweat rolling down their foreheads. They recovered their flashlights and their rifles as they sought their way through the doors to C&C. The doors gave in and it swung open.
C&C was a smashed mess. Smoke billowed from consols. Consols' were burnt and sparks flew in the air. The stench of fear, blood and sweat was amoung them all. Bodies littered throughout the stations, on the floors, propped on chairs. One by one, they checked their life signs. Two dead as far as it went.
Gideon was on his way to the viewscreen when he encounted a pile of blood and nearly stumbled on a blue earthforce uniform. Long auburn hair. He recodnized the lucid eyes that were facing the ceiling, her hands on a gaping wound as her fingers tried to put pressure to the wound. He dropped his rifle and his flashlight immediately and dropped to his knees. It was Lochley.
He gathered her into his arms, propping her up to let her breath a little. She was gasping for the air; good. At least it ment she was still alive. He looked down on her face. Fatigue, command, confidence, horror, pain, fear...it all engulfed her face. He could almost feel it as much as he could see it, as if an electric current passed them by. It always had. It might always be.
"Matthew..." Her voice was rasping like a whisper in the wind.
He fought panic. "I'm here, Elizabeth," he hushed. "I'm here. You're going to be okay. The Excalibur's here. You're going to get help, okay?" He cradled her head and looked up, pass the smoke. "Dr. Ungantae! I need you, now! I found Captain Lochley!"
Ungantae rushed over, with Dureena by his side. He flipped out a scanner and scanned Lochley's twisted body. His face became more and more worse. His mouth became a thin hard line as he watched the data flow into the screen. Gideon refused to expect the worst. No, not after all that's happened. Not after he lost the Cerebrus...
"Her vital signs are critical," he finally reported. "She's lucky she came through all of this. She's suffering from shock and trauma. She's lost alot of blood, sir and she's suffering from a hemmerage to her side...if I don't get her to a Medlab soon enough...she'll die." His face shone what Gideon was worrying about.
"Get a stretcher," he ordered faintly. "Get her down there."
"Aye sir." He hustled away.
Gideon looked down at Lochley. "Don't worry," he told her softly. "I'm going to get you out of this. I'll get you to Medlab and you're be back to your old, grouchy and commanding self again." To his surprise, she managed a faint smile that made him smile too. He refused to think she'll die.
"I have ears, Matt," she whispered faintly. "I heard of my condition." She managed to focus her lucid eyes up at him. "You came. That was...unexpected."
"Not exactly knight in shining armour, but..."
She managed to smile, but her fatigue was enormous. Her soft features were sharpened at her cheekbones and her chin. Dark circles engulfed below her eyes. Her eyes were red and tired. Her body seemed lighter than usual. Whatever it was he was carrying. "Don't push it," she managed to whisper.
That made him smile. "What happened?"
Her eyes were filled with fright. "They were all around us, surrounding us," she said, her voice trembling. "We tried...I tried, to push them back while I could. But there were so many of them. They kept punching us and I had to...evacuate the station." She shook her head, fighting the demons off. "I was able to cripple some of the ships but some came back on us. I ordered the glass window to be shut, but I got caught and..."
"It's okay," he conforted soothingly. "It's over. I'm here."
Dureena watched as Gideon whispered confort to her. She never saw him so...conforting. All of a sudden, this nice side just appeared in him that she feared she will never see again. At least not directed to her face but to that injured captain who now lay in the heap. She turned away; this was getting too...touchy.
A stretcher arrived as the medics gently lifted the injured Lochley onto the stretcher. Gideon was still there, holding her hand, promising he won't let go. Dureena vaguely saw through the thick smoke, but saw her say something before the medics left the command center, the link broken, Gideon left behind.
"She must mean something," she commented, against her will.
He turned sharply at her; now she was to be humiliated. Thank goodness for all the smog. What was wrong with her? She was damned nosy, but that came with her job as a thief; Mr. Eilerson's "noble profession, the second oldest in the book." She watched her captain's complextion; it changed.
"Found anything?"
She fumbled through her knotted fingers and held up a data crystal. "Recordings of the battle," she stated tightly. "I found it at one of the officer's bodies. An ensign. Apparently, he's dead now and I guess he wanted someone to find the recordings." She feebly handed it to her captain's outstretched palm.
He studied it before handing it back. "Return to the Excalibur and have it analyzed," he ordered. The smog began to drift away as more stretchers arrived for the other crewmen's bodies. This was hell. This was Lochley's station. Lochley's crew. Her side of the galaxy and out of all the targets, this place was been picked. Why here? Why now?
Throughout his life, he had seen the enemy attack here and there. He saw a strange ship kill his crew, later to be involved in the Shadow war and that it was a shadow that had crippled his vessel and destroyed it. He watched as he was saved by the mysterious technomage Galen. Now his homeworld was stormed in and contaminated by the drakh virus and he was searching for a cure to the virulent one. And now he stands in the command deck of the one he fell for littered with bodies and scorched with gun power from the enemy?
"Captain?" Dureena asked. "Anything else?"
He blinked. "No," he stuttered. "That'll be all."
"God, this place was even in much worse condition than last time," Max remarked as he and Chambers walked down the corridors, searching for anything at all. They had left their crew over to find the rest of the personel while the two headed Down Below.
"Last time?" Chambers asked, her eyes puckish. "Last time, your wife..." He glanced at her dryly making her correct it, "your ex-wife was being chased by that Adolf guy whom she owed. Funny, that was only... what?...a few weeks ago and when we return, only to find it devastated." She faced him. "You never told me how you scared him off though."
He glanced at her. "A man never shows the key to all his tricks."
"A man should never hide all the truths, Max."
"That may be so," he countered. "But frankly, dear doctor, I still have all my cards at hand and none has been played."
"Only because you are the most self-serving."
"I only follow profit and motive," he defended huffily, his face coloured with the idea. He seemed to be remembering something behind his eyes. What was it? Chambers couldn't get anywhere closer to what he was thinking. Gosh, then they'll realize what a big mushy he was then.
"I don't understand how you ever got this job," she sighed.
He stopped as she continued to stide, unaware of his sudden stop. Red fourteen. He was here before. Yes, he was. That time when he was a representative for IPX to the Hak'Vir. Noble race. A man with a dark beard. The same mouth. He was remembering, yes. He remembered the same words spoken;
"How the hell did they ever let you into this business in the first place?!" he shouted at him that day.
"Same reason how you got into the Rangers," was his retort. A Ranger, yes. It had been almost nine years ago when he met that Ranger. He was thankful he had came, otherwise, he wouldnn't be here right now. Little did he know whatever happened afterwards, only that he was in direct contact with the great Shadow war. He wanted to check whatever happened to him afterwards, but he never had the time to check. Or maybe because he never bothered to.
"Max?"
"Max? Are you alright?" the ranger asked him.
"Does it look like I'm alright?" he replied. "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 at your concern, Mr. Cole."
Cole, yes, that was his name. Ranger Cole. What was his first name?
"Shut up, Mr. Eilerson," came a woman's voice. "You'll draw attention and then we'll be either hanging by our throats or our throats slitted from ear to ear. How will it be?"
Yes, the Ranger's friend. A...commander of some kind. Earthforce commander, of course! The lady friend of his forgotten ranger friend. The one Cole fell for considerably head over heels over but never mustered up to say it to her face. He wondered whatever happened to those two? Promoted, perhaps. Married? Fifty, fifty.
"Max?" Chambers said, over him. "Are you alright?"
He blinked out of the warp. "Sarah?"
She smiled kindly. Surprisingly. But her eyes were filled with concern. "You okay, there?" she asked. "I mean, you seemed pretty far at that moment. Is there something wrong?" She looked at him again with concern of a doctor...or a friend? "Do you want to talk about it?"
He shook his head. "I was just---remembering," he told her stalely. "The first time I came here on Babylon 5." He smiled small. "It was quite---quite a time I had." He looked at the sign: red fourteen. "I had an interesting arguement here that time."
"You had an arguement here? Hah! That's an understatement!"
"It lasted for over thirteen hours strait," he added.
She dropped her jaw. "Thirteen hours, Max?!" she demanded. Unbelieveable. She knew the man was a blabbermouth, but never so straight forward for over thirteen hours straight! Her doctor side said impossible but the other was keen in interest. "Max, how many years ago was this?" she asked.
"Almost six years ago now," he told her lightly, distantly.
"The man who argued must have had a good time," she commented.
"Yes," he agreed distantly. "It was...he saved my life. Him and his earthforce friend of his. I owed him mines." He shook his head. "Once I left this station, weeks later, news channel broadcast reported that Babylon 5 became independant. I never heard from him ever again. He was linked with the war. He was a Ranger."
"Tell me everything, Max," she told him.
"Well..."
"Gotta hand it to you, Lieutenant," Trace said as he pulled on his spacesuit, "you've got a good team here." Matheson winced at the compliment as he pulled together his own gear on. Minutes later they will be in space and were going to be conducting their search for the pods that left from the station.
"I suppose so, Mr. Miller," he agreed. buckling his boots.
"So, our mission is to find the life pods...only?"
Matheson looked up. he feared that even if he told him two million times, he still wouldn't have gotten it. "Yes, Mr. Miller," he told him relentlessly all over again. "We are only going out in the Starfuries to collect all the life pods that were ejected from Babylon 5...unless you plan to crash land on Epsilon 3. They're kind, simple folk, I have heard."
Miller scowled as he finished buckling his silver enviormental jacket. "What's I'd like to know," he said out loud, "is how you get to go out on Starfuries. I know, I heard you're qualified for such a gig, but didn't Earthforce pass a rule not for telepaths to go off the ship? No offence or anything."
The lieutenant rolled his eyes. What kind of wingman was he going to have, a questioning one? Might as well answer it. "Yes, the new PsiCorps rule passed it down," he replied as he finished buckling his shiny white boots; or was it gray? "But the rule does not apply to this sort of situation."
"It must be a nice change for you, Lieutenant," he remarked. "Not holding down the fort for once."
Matheson wanted to blurt, "Of course!" but instead replied, "Yes, it is." He then got up and took out his sphere cover for his head and pulled on the gloves onto his hands. "Well," he told Trace, "it's time to go. You will be on Beta Two, my wingman. You have your orders and don't try anything stupid."
"Yes sir." In command. Him as a wingman. How interesting.