Chapter Eleven
"The Drop Becomes a Ripple"
Babylon Five:
Bester stared at the unknown alien facing him. What was this creature? "Pleased to meet you, Commander," Bester murmured dismissively. "But I am really here to see your telepaths, to make sure that they are not being abused by you mind blind-I mean normals."
Behind him, his partner barely covered her smirking. Data hesitated a second. Had he understood he had been insulted?
"And I am please to meet you. I think."
The alien had completely missed the slight. Data wouldn't be any fun at all. More importantly he might not be that easily manipulated, Bester thought. Data could be a serious threat and he filed that titbit of information for the future.
"And who are these two lovely ladies with you?" he asked smiling.
"Lieutenant Deanna Troi, MD, and Ensign B'Elanna Torres, currently a guest onboard our ship."
The Torres woman meant nothing to him, but the name Deanna! Truman had described her in detail, showing the woman in his mind to his fellow telepaths. It was believed that the man's image of her had been exaggerated as the mind sometimes did. It was also a well-known fact that the mind often enhanced what the eyes had seen, but in the particular case, he hadn't. She was as beautiful as Truman had envisioned her. He couldn't help himself, he scanned her-and came up with nothing. He couldn't believe it. Beside him, by the look on her face, Jackie evidently had tried as well.
She had blocked him and her easily and simply smiled while doing it. How?
Something touched his mind and he froze, then feeling her exotic probing he immediately erected a psychic wall. She didn't fight against it but simply brush against it over and over with deceptive power. It was like nothing he ever felt before, so alien yet so familiar. She constantly brushed his wall, just enough so that he couldn't lower it without her rushing into his mind. He was a level twelve telepath, and still he was on the defensive as she continued to brush against him. The experience was completely new to him. And it also explained why Truman had such trouble with her.
"I am a citizen from the planet Betazed," she transmitted to him as though it should have meant something to him. "And no, we are not some offshoots of Humanity as you are assuming. We are something else entirely."
Bester gasped as he realized that Deanna continued to brush against his mind while, communing with him. To do both things at once required power and control that only p-twelve's could attempt.
"Bester," she continued. "I can feel your duplicitous nature, your self-interest, your contempt for so-called normals. You have a serious problem."
"I don't have a problem," he beamed back, psychic defences at full. He could feel it. There was no way he could lie to her. Her empathic capabilities were awesome and any deviation of the truth would be detected. He could only hope that if any of this came out it would his word against hers. And if it came to that, he would make sure that it would not become public knowledge. After all, dead women told no tales.
"My concern is for my people," he continued. He was betting that her ties to her own kind would keep his secrets since he could not lie and get away with it-not with her abilities. "I am their protector from all those who would try to destroy us. That is the reason why I am here, to make sure that you and your people were safe. I assumed that you were Human telepaths and as such you and your people would benefit from our help. We cannot co-exist with normals forever. Soon the time will come to decide our destiny. Even now, the lines are being drawn and telepaths, all telepaths are part of me. After all, we are like family and the Corps, our mother and father."
"I'm an empath, Mr. Bester. I know you're lying about your concern for us. I believe you simply want to exploit us."
"I would never consider such a thing!" He looked so sincere that the casual observer would have never disbelieved him. She, however, simply looked at him.
"As Commander Riker would say, 'tell me another one'."
Frustrated, he almost snarled at Ivanova, but managed to stop himself. This time, like all other past meetings, he had been effectively quarantined even more so than if they had drugged him and Susan knew this. And he hated that smug attitude but he would never give her the satisfaction showing his weakness.
"Well," he said out loud. "Will you tell me a little about your history of your planet?"
"If you wish information about us, then we will expect no less from you," Data countered. "Tell us about the Earth telepaths first."
Bester's first instinct was to ignore him, however he decided to relent. The psychic awakening was ancient history now.
"Telepaths on Earth started to make appearances in larger numbers around three hundred years ago. As you might expect, as with anything new, the normal population began to fear us because of our obviously superior nature. So, in order to protect them and us, the Psi-Corps was founded with the purpose of showing the world that we both could co-exist."
He blinked his eyes a couple of times while looking at Data who stared back impassively. He noticed that the alien's blinking pattern was unusually regular. He thought that it looked quite unnatural.
Commander Ivanova couldn't stand it any longer. His drivel made her nauseous.
"You impose your rules on anyone who has psi-abilities whether they want it or not!"
Susan was seething and it didn't take a telepath to know that she would gladly place Bester's head on a platter.
"My mother's life wasted away because of those rules. The suppression drugs she took-"
"Were for her own good," Bester stated quickly. "She couldn't live a normal life if people knew what she was, and by her own choice she didn't come into the family. We could have protected her, loved her. She could have lived a wonderful life with her children-"
This time Susan cut him off.
"But not with her 'normal' husband. He would have disappeared like so many others. Your breeding program would not allow for his continued union with my mother."
"We don't have a breeding program," he lied. "But we do believe that people should live with their own kind. It makes for much better conditions all-round."
"You make me sick," Susan snarled now ignoring Bester and turning towards the Federation party. "If they get their hands on you and your people Lieutenant, they will pull out every bit information they can and discard whatever's left."
Bester grimaced at Susan's hysterics. This was supposed to be a simple scouting mission. And as much as he hated it he needed Sheridan to help him find kidnapped telepaths. But now he would have to first defend the Corps against Babylon Five's head witch's accusations, if he were to salvage any of this.
"Despite what you just heard from the Commander over here, we are not like that at all. I will admit that there are some elements-which we are addressing-that have been overzealous in the past. But we exist for the positive enlightenment of all. And we offer our services to your people, even they are not fully Human."
"We are not Homo Sapiens of Sol-Terra-Earth," Deanna corrected. "We are Homo Sapiens species Betazadrian, not an offshoot variation, but a completely different species. Our species was born to telepathy like we were born to see. It has existed as part of us for untold eons while you are just beginning to understand what it means to be a telepath. For you being a telepath is like a baby discovering a bouncing ball for the first time. Your people still think of it as a power, while we considered it no more important than a part of our nature, like eyesight or hearing. My people have forgotten more than you have yet discovered, Mr. Bester. So how long would it take for our people to be at odds with one another because we will not subject ourselves to your petty rules?"
She moved closer to him and made eye contact. "And another thing. We've been at war with a ruthless enemy for over twenty years. What techniques do you think we employ that would cause us to be as feared by you as you believe normal Humans are of yourselves?"
The more Bester looked at her the more alien she appeared.
"It would not be wise for us to closely associates ourselves with a telepathically immature species with attitudes like yourselves."
Bester flushed violently as Susan laughed at him. The humiliation was too much. He simply couldn't help himself. He lashed out violently striking Deanna's mental shields. She reeled slightly from the brute force of the intrusion and returned the attack turning his embarrassment back upon him. For an instant her own wall faded and she was inside...compassion...slaughter...weapons of mass destruction...a mother so powerful that no one's secrets would be safe...concern for species other than herself...a wondrous vision of the future...emotions so strong as to sear the soul...dark passions...a starship overran...phasers fire disintegrating Klingons intent on eviscerating her and her crewmembers...the overwhelming smell of death everywhere…
All of this, he saw in a moment. He understood and the moment changed him. These Betazoids were no longer targets. He would protect them as much as he could. This Federation however was another matter entirely. They were far, far too much of a threat. Psi-Corps plans would shatter coming directly against them. A face-to-face struggle was useless as long as the Betazoids and those others were there to protect them. An instant later, he realized that the bond-link had went both ways-
Next to him Thompson had tensed, ready to follow any lead that Bester would initiate. He knew that he could count on her but right now, he was so focused on Deanna, he could not fully concentrate on anything else.
Her eyes, indeed her entire demeanour had recoiled with revulsion at what she had seen with her downlink. The revelations that she had seen had disgusted the woman but not terrified her as he had now hoped it would. The way she looked down on him, what she knew now terrified him. No matter what he was beginning to feel about her, reflexes took over. He did the only thing his mind could think of to salvage this terrible break in security of the entire Psi-corps.
He attacked her both psychically and physically. It was like a caveman using a club against a combat-ready marine-foolish-unless first strike was guaranteed. His psychic attack slammed against her unprepared shields even as he lunged for her throat in an attempt to snap her neck before anyone could stop him. Even if it cost his life, even if it was this woman who had affected him more than anyone he ever knew, he intended to keep his secrets safe. His fingers reached out for a shocked Deanna's neck, who was just now beginning to react.
He had almost touched the woman when strong hands pulled him back and then upwards towards the ceiling. Stunned by the sudden lift, he looked down at the face of the alien Data holding him effortlessly. He immediately elbowed the alien in the face, to no avail. A second later he heard the sound of a PPG powering up. He resisted smiling at Data. It would be over soon he thought, although this was not how he planned his day.
Thompson was pointing the weapon towards B'Elanna, who and now stepped in front of Doctor Troi and had for some reason tapped her insignia.
"Put him down, Commander, or I will kill them both."
Meanwhile Susan was about to tap her comlink, but Thompson's negative shaking stopped her.
"You will kill us all, whether I put Mr. Bester down or not," Data said indifferently. "It is better that I break Mr. Bester's neck right now. Your weapon will not stop me before I can get to you. Then you will be next."
Bester's blood chilled at the sound of Data's casualness. He didn't have to be a telepath to understand that this being would absolutely do what he said he'd do.
"Then we're all dead," she whispered. There was no choice here at all.
The next instant, before she could press the trigger, she felt the most terrifying feeling of her body separating from itself, fading away. Not understanding what was happening to her, she opened her mouth to scream...
The Shadow triad, one in front, one to Morden's side and one bringing up the rear, continued towards the Zoccalo in search of new targets of interest to ensnare. The Federation officers were of particular interest since their ambassador seemed to adamant to resist their simple requests. Perhaps there would be better luck there. The Triad wanted to examine those ships and so far, the opportunities had not presented themselves yet. Some type of unknown shielding prevented their direct entry and their security perimeter was such that phasing was impossible. They needed to be somehow invited in, whether by shuttlecraft or accompanying one of the strangers. It did not matter how as long as it happened. Their alien technology needed to be examined.
It would be understated to say that Morden was fairly angry at being so completely rebuffed by Ambassador Guinan the Shadow companion thought while walking towards their next destination.
The creature called Guinan was somehow different than others of her kind. It could not quite define the difference, as Human physiology was not its area of expertise, but something had not been right with the she-creature. The third of three had even stood behind her, daring her to sense it. It became unsure whether Guinan noticed or not and that in itself was disturbing.
The Human gave no outward sign, not even a change in heart rate or life-fluid pressure, but still-
A search in the room revealed nothing unusual and they left. True to form, its species were psychological web spinners, planning carefully to put their plans in motion. This war had to be planned carefully and they were almost ready, but unlike the last time they wouldn't allow arrogance to cause them to move too soon.
Morden had failed when they needed him to succeed. The Triad had expressed their displeasure at his incompetence father forcefully. Although very good, the Human was overconfident in his ability to persuade his fellow Humanoids to do their biddings, Mollari being a case in point. He intended to break away and that would never be allowed.
The names of the Triad were such that no Human or alien could pronounce them, so they simply answered to First, Second and Third which amused them to no end. Most other species would never comprehend their language or reproduce their speech, so certain modifications had been made in Morden and a few others so that direct communication would be possible.
To all others, their vocals would sound like simple squeaks or grating noises.
"No," Morden said as they continued down the hallway. "I don't believe that she was warned in any way."
Flute-like Squeaks.
"Yes, it's true. Most people want something but not all...We will find something to bring her over to us...I don't know about the telepaths onboard."
Grating noises.
"I know they have at least one. We may have to remove her."
-More grating noises.
"When we speak to the Captains, yes, I will offer them a way to return to their part of the galaxy."
Something that sounded like a broken flute echoed down the hall.
"You have never heard of the Federation, not even rumours? They're still Human and what we offer will entice them."
Squeaks followed by more fluting sounds, soft and ominous.
"The Centauri will be notified and our associates will ensure the vessel's remains will get to the right sources."
A questionable piccolo like sound echoed off of the walls.
"Ambassador Mollari insisted that they would not share their shield technology. Lord Refa will quell Mollari's resistive nature with the information we have given him...Yes, I will offer the Klingons the same..."
To the few people passing by, it seemed as though he was talking to himself and they walked by never giving him a second thought. Those that looked closer would swear that his face was silhouetted more by shadow than by the lights that glared overhead and they shivered at Morden's darkness.
The glass shattered loudly against the back wall. It was the third glass destroyed in the last ten minutes, but he never even noticed. Londo Mollari was more angry-and frightened-than he had been when he was present at the destruction of the Narn home world. Then things were spiralling out of control but now things had slammed into the very ground itself. He had no control of any of the events he was witness to. The very last thing he wanted to do was present an ultimatum to the Federation and Klingons, but was just what he wound up doing.
It was meant as a warning pure and simple, however he felt guilty for seemingly betraying his people. The Federation warships were bad enough, but the other ship and its obviously mad crew seemed worse. They were bred for battle and he feared any kind of attack would produce the worse kind of response. Guinan had described bits of the war between the two powers and he recoiled in horror at the amount of death and hatred between the two governments. Planet against planet was one thing. Entire solar systems being stripped of life was another matter entirely. The fact that the two powers even talked to one another was astounding in itself. What if they decided to bring that power to bear on Centauri prime?
True, Centauri ships were stronger than Earth Force Warships but, could they withstand an assault by both or worse yet, all three of the strangers? He didn't want to find out. He had to stop it somehow before his worst nightmare came true.
The knock at his door startled him. Adira, his one true love, was not scheduled to arrive for another two days. He wasn't expecting company right now and he certainly was not in the mood.
"Go away!"
"It is not polite to yell at your superior through the door Londo," a familiar voice said.
It was Lord Refa. He always picked the worst of times to show his face. What was he doing here? Londo believed that he had gotten rid of the man for a while, but no. Like the proverbial earth penny, he kept showing up. Reluctantly he got up and opened the door. His entire body chafed at the process.
"Thank you for opening the door, Londo," Refa said as he brushed passed the Ambassador.
There was nothing friendly in that greeting as they both looked at one another in mutual hatred.
"My Refa," Londo countered. "You're looking the picture of health these days."
"Thank you," he said. He understood the veiled insult and threat all too well. "That's one of the reasons why I have come here in the first place. But before we get to that, I want to know how your proceedings with the Federation are going. Have you procured our requests?"
"As I have said before, there are no requests. There are only demands. The Federation Humans and the Klingons are aware that they must share their technology with us under no certain terms. I informed them that our government would not tolerate their technology going to the Earthers-in this case Babylon Five-without our permission or compensation of equal measure."
"Very good, Londo," Refa answered. "Very good. And what did they say? How did they respond?"
"Well," he began. "It was good that there were no weapons in the room or otherwise I wouldn't be here having this conversation with you. The Earthers, all of them, said no. I believe that the Klingons wanted to rip me into little pieces and then say no. Therefore, I believe that 'no' is the answer to our little request."
"That is too bad. We warned them."
Refa snatched a glass and began pouring himself a drink before continuing.
"Is it true that the new arrivals have some type of molecular converter that allows them to travel from their ship to another place?"
Well, Mollari mused, their little secret was out and he had to make the report to his government. That device itself was a power beyond imagining.
"Yes, it's true. I myself witnessed it. One moment there was nothing and the next they were there as big as life. I nev-"
Something about Lord Refa's smile paralysed him. Great Maker! Mollari turned to face Lord Refa truly looking at his for the first time since he had entered the room. "Is our government going to attack them?"
The answer was silence. It confirmed his worst fears.
"They can't do this! They will decimate a good portion of the fleet," he yelled. "You weren't here when the Earthers attacked. You didn't see the aftermath of the destruction. Who thought of this idiotic idea?"
"It was my idea, Londo, with permission from the royal court." He continued smiling. "I must confess that you are very good Londo. You've managed to have our forces pull back and even I have had to, shall we say, lessen my contact with Mr. Morden. For some reason, they are most unhappy with you. And so am I."
Londo watched in disgust as the man perked up like a peacock.
"You must stop this insanity before it goes any farther."
"No."
"Perhaps you didn't understand me," Londo hissed. He didn't want to use his hold over Refa like this but he seemed to have no choice now. "You will stop this Lord Refa or you will not live to see the outcome."
"Ah," he wisped. "That is the second thing that I have come to tell you about." The thin man helped himself to a seat, clearly enjoying having the upper hand. "When I told our associates what you had done, they were most displeased. First you rejected their generous offers after they gave such a wonderful gift. Now you threaten me, their new contact. They were most unhappy with you. Mr. Morden told me to tell you that if anything happens to me, you will suffer or more specifically, your family will suffer. If I die, then your wives, your family members, and even your friends will follow me shortly thereafter."
His eyes gleamed with unholy delight, the absolute delight of victory.
"They want the shield technology, Londo. They want those ships or they want them neutralized before they have time to interfere."
He bent towards Mollari like some predatory animal about to pounce on its helpless prey.
"You don't have a choice. You will support us or you will suffer, Ambassador Mollari."
Londo was shocked. Another battle most likely another war with the Federation wherever it may be. Maybe not now but when they find out then they will be sure to deal with whoever destroyed their ships. And what about those crazy, oversized Klingons who seem to want to fight at a drop of one's scarf? The only thing he could imagine was his beautiful planet burning in the aftermath. That apparition was added to the ever-present vision of the Shadows flying over his world with impunity, and his eventual death by the hands of the Narn he hated and feared the most.
"Nothing good will come of this!" he had to convince this fool to stop before it was too late.
"We shall see," his adversary laughed. "You have no trust in our military, Londo. Come now, we have shown the universe that we are a power once more. The Narn home world lies burned and broken at our feet. No one will dare oppose us after the Klingon vessel lay ruined and smouldering as it is pulled back to Centauri Prime."
The damaged Klingon ship would be attacked instead of Federation ones? Londo had to admit it made sense. Their technology had to be at least equal to the Federation's and most likely the others might not defend them as aggressively. And the ship was damaged. But there were a few major problems with this, the first being B5, the second being the Klingons themselves. The third might be the Federation vessels not taking kindly to such action, even against their enemies.
"The Klingon ship was seen skirting our territory without permission, possibly on a spying mission."
Refa seemed overjoyed at that little incident. The Klingon cruiser had unknowingly edged Centauri territory on its way to Babylon Five. The Klingons could not have cared less whose territories they had violated. It was the most flimsy excuse for this operation, but it was an excuse to be exploited nevertheless.
"As such, we have a responsibility to defend our sovereign territory. We must ascertain why they were there and what they saw."
Mollari recognized and other, darker quandary while trying to head off this potential disaster.
"Refa, do you think that they will possibly let you retrieve those the secrets?"
"They? As in our associates whom you've forced me to avoid?" Refa asked innocently. "Those ships are a source of irritation to them. The sooner they are dealt with the better. They have no place here Londo. And if you are not careful, neither will you."
Refa moved closer. "They are as the strong breeze that sweeps everything clean. You can no more fight them as you can capture the wind."
"And what will become of us? Will we be swept aside as well?"
"We will be at their side, Londo." He began to laugh at Londo's horrified look. "And we will ascend with them. Be ready. We do not want Sheridan interfering with our operation. We need the aire of diplomacy that you alone can and will provide." Then he laughed at Londo again.
The man actually believed that! Londo suppressed the urge to throw him out of his room, after he gutted him. Refa was a fool, yes but a dangerous fool that as of now he could not touch. Now Refa had it in for him and he knew it.
The Ambassador thought that he had some control of the situation. But everything has changed, he thought bitterly. The question was what was he going to do now? Right now he needed time to sort this out. Before time ran out he would think of something.
EAS EVANSTON 200 MILES ABOVE VEGA COLONY:
Seven Earth Force heavy warships orbiting the captured colony, re-adjusted their orbital trajectories as two newly arrived cruisers approached. From them two shuttles moved towards the EAS Evanston.
"Officers on the bridge!"
Captain Terrell Drake stood at hard attention as General Brindley and several high-ranking officers entered the bridge of the EAS Evanston. By the time everyone entered, the normally spacious bridge seemed crowded.
"At ease, Captain," Brindley ordered. "I want your evaluation. Will you be ready?"
A little more than a three months ago, Captain Drake and his ship had survived an encounter with the USS Enterprise-D. Barely. His combat group, completely unprepared for what they were getting into, had been ripped apart by that one ship's unimagined firepower. Well, this time it would be different.
"With the time constraints? In my opinion, no," Drake curtly answered. "The latest reports from our operatives are that there is another ship in the area. It's a warship from the enemies of the Federation called Clingkons. It's evidently damaged but when it appeared, Picard's and the other ship lit up like Christmas trees."
"Did they attack?"
"No," he said with some regret. It would have been nice to have them blow one another into dust.
"Evidently the warship asked for protection from Babylon Five before the others could blow it out of space."
"And Sheridan allowed this?"
"Yes, sir."
This was exactly what General Brindley and several others feared, that the Federation war (wherever that is) would spill over into their sector. It was impossible to dismiss the claims of the Federation was a figment of someone's imagination now. This wasn't something Sheridan cooked up-which shattered more than a few hopes-but a large powerful force out there armed with fantastic technology. Earth wouldn't stand a chance if these strangers, Human or not, began a campaign of conquest.
"Who are these newcomers?"
"These aliens are some sort of warrior race, dedicated to combat and the glory of the kill. However the most interesting thing was how they appeared in B5 space."
Silence reigned for a moment.
"They didn't initiate a jump point. There were rumours that the ship simply appeared there but our people suspect that they used the same FTL as the Federation ships." Quietly: "There's another rumour as well, sir."
"Spit it out."
Captain Drake pointed to a young Lieutenant to answer that question.
"I'm Lieutenant Han, sir," she said before the officers would ask, especially since her Captain did not it important enough to introduce her. "The enemy ship is believed to have transmat technology."
"What?"
That titbit was fascinating in the extreme. The power that such a device could bring would be absolute. Brindley had never heard of such a thing being achieved. Scientists had been trying to develop something like that for decades with no success. The Heisenberg uncertainly principle-which states that the position or the motion of a particular subatomic particle can be predicted but not both at the same time- kept getting in the way. Matter could be broken down but not re-integrated back to the original state. The most promising results of all the experiments resulted in a mess all over the lab.
"Does the Federation ships have the same capability?"
"Unknown, Sir. Analysis sector believe they do not have this particular device. But we postulate that they must have defences against the various attacks we can imagine could occur from someone who did. Maybe the defensive shields somehow negate the transmat signals; otherwise the enemy could simply place a bomb inside their ship and blow it to pieces. And the fact that the Enterprise and Ambassador didn't use that technique against our ships seem to support this."
"However, they do have something similar," Brindley said. "The food replication device, which theoretically works on the same principle. I assume that that was taken into consideration."
"Yes, sir. If they do have the same, identical technology, and we have no proof of this, they haven't shown any evidence of it."
"That we've seen."
"Yes, sir."
General Pickett, one of the staff members started with questions of his own.
"Have we been able to ascertain the type of weaponry used against our ships? What's the range? Do we have anything capable of getting thought their shields?"
"Our biggest problems, obviously are those defensive shields," Han continued. "We've analysed the last attack on the Ambassador. Scans showed eighty-five percent drop in their shield energy ratings after the attacks of the EarthForce destroyers using full power in an sustained attack. Our sustained plasma beams seemed to be the most effective as compared to the nuclear payloads and our lasers. However, the payloads were tactical in nature and their power was scattered over a much wider area. If we continue to use nuclear weapons against them, they need to be configured so that as much of the energy as possible will hit one point and theoretically overload their shields."
"The Captain of the Ambassador didn't respond to the attack until her shields were almost depleted," Captain Drake said. Analysis indicated that the Ambassador tried to secure the pirate ship and as a result took several major hits. Even then those fantastic shields deflected the enormous energies directed at it. "Garrett seems to be more reluctant to fight. She waited until it was almost too late. She didn't destroy the Lenmark, merely disabled it. If she sticks to her pattern, then it may be something that we can exploit. Picard however, is another animal altogether."
Merely saying his name made his stomach curl. He hated the man.
"Captain Picard will be executed, if he's still alive, when we capture or destroy the Enterprise-D. But you're correct; he is a problem. He's a veteran. His tactics, speed and weaponry at his disposal makes him a formidable enemy. It might be better if we destroy it completely and concentrate on capturing the Ambassador instead."
"I disagree concerning the analysis of the Captain of the Ambassador, but it might also be in our interest to keep Picard alive as long as possible," an EAS Colonel suggested. "He would be a invaluable prisoner, since he would possess codes and tactical data on the Federation and others we'll encounter in the future."
"He's too dangerous, sir," Drake answered. "If he survives, then we should pump him for information. But he should then be executed, as per President Clarke's orders. We should get rid of him and those ships. Leave absolutely no evidence of them ever being here.
"Sheridan should be on the list, too."
"No," a second, one star General responded in his gravely voice. "He's fast becoming a symbol and that is the last thing we need are more defections coming over to his side. No," he repeated. "Our President has other plans for him. Captain, our intention is not to destroy B5 but to capture it. It is EarthGov property. Remember that."
The Lieutenant cleared his throat and unwanted attention was refocused back to him. "We have to get close enough for our weapons to be effective, and that's another obstacle. Their beam weapons have an effective kill radius of one hundred, eighty-six thousand miles, or one light second. And their anti-matter missiles can track and outrun anything we have moving in normal space. Counter measures have proven completely ineffective so far. But we've developed a weapons system that may help even the odds."
The weapon in question wasn't officially supposed to be ready until a year from now, But President Clarke had insisted that it be deployed now. The prototype was crude and might very well blow itself to pieces after the first firing, but a lot of bets were being placed on its effectiveness.
"Therefore, the ideal situation would be for us to hit them without their shields active, and close enough so that our weapons can be the most devastating and getting in the first strike," the colonel finished.
"That's wishful thinking, Colonel Griffin. We still may not be able to get thru those shields in time to keep them from picking us apart. We need to attack at a time of our choosing. And we need a diversion."
"When will we be ready?"
"Operation Shatterfist will be ready in three months," Drake said. "Our package will be delivered by then and once it checks out, we will proceed."
Then he would personally return the favour that Picard had so graciously given him-humiliation and a broken ship. Only there would be no escape, not for him.
Brindley's face drained. In three months, they might be gone or worse they might start upgrading B5. If they leave then they might come back with a lot more ships. Earth Forces had to show that they were strong and couldn't be pushed around. Three months was too long, but there was no choice.
"Our president has also prepared a diversion of his own. Let's see if this plan can come together."
Chapter Twelve
"And the Ripple-a Wave of Change"
Security chief Michael Garibaldi and Zack, his second-in-command were sitting some distance from both Federation Captains watching the little conversation between them and Mr. Morden. Again Garibaldi was disturbed by the possibility that silence was doing more harm than good. Morden was for all intents and purposes the agent of the very enemy people had been waiting for the last thousand, or so, years. Now he was in the middle of speaking to a group who were from literally not of this universe. If that wasn't a recipe for disaster, he didn't know what qualified as one.
He liked these people, especially Deanna and security chief Yar. But his paranoia wouldn't allow him to get comfortable with these people. Every time he did get comfortable, something came out and bit him for his troubles.
He took a sip of coffee, or what Babylon Five called coffee and revisited the urge to spit it out. "Zack, when I woke up this morning, I had real coffee, or should I say that replicated coffee." As he thought about it, it became even more apparent that he could not discern the difference between the replicated foods and the real thing. His experimentation with his personal food replicator had caused him to have to exercise more. "I don't even think about the stuff they serve here."
He looked at the closest restaurant. That was the perfect example he thought. No longer did they have to wait for their supplies from an Earth that was blockading them. Now, all they had to do was to requisition their order from B5 and they supplied the order via the industrial replicators supplied by the Enterprise-D. With them they were becoming self-sustaining. Even gas production became less critical.
B5 charged for everything and now those prices were cheaper and the quality excellent. Not only was this true with food but with, hard to get supplies and textiles. Worn parts were no longer a concern. Have a damaged or destroyed engine? Replicate a new one within ten minutes. Need those exotic shuttle parts? We have it all for a reasonable price and it's new and guaranteed to last longer than the original piece!
The beginnings of artificial gravity and polarizing plating in critical areas were a godsend. Even the lurkers down below were benefiting with clothing and food and medicines. Life was getting better and better on the station all the time. But there were those who didn't like the changes taking place. Criminal elements that benefited from the exorbitant prices saw an alarming loss of revenue as smuggling became unprofitable. The resultant hostility from those few that saw their profits dwindling was vandalism and rumor. The best and most effective rumor was that the food was poisoned and designed to get rid of the undesirables down below so that things could be stretched among fewer survivors. That seemed effective for about a week.
However, the most potential damaging situation was the attempted destruction of the replicator unit. That resulted in increased security for the area. There were no repeated offenses, especially with that newly built force field in place.
"I can't believe how much the station's changed. The problem is I can't tell if it's a good thing or bad."
"It looks good to me." Zack had heard about those food replicators, but he didn't have a personal one in his apartment; only a select few had that luxury. High enough to have heard about it, but not high enough to get one, he thought. How typical.
Michael rubbed the back of his neck. The station's survival was paramount now. The Shadow strategies had been simple-get the various races to fight one another and bleed their resources, effectively crippling themselves. Most of the non-aligned worlds had signed the mutual agreement pact and now the Shadows were attacking openly. Things were going downhill fast and no one had an idea of their true purposes.
On the other hand, the Feds and their 'friends' seemed to be doing well, but he had more important problems than loud talkers, namely Stephen. Today he made a mistake and almost killed a patient of his. It had gotten to the point that he almost went 'official', which would have destroyed Stephen's career but at the last second he chose not to. But the bottom line was that Stephen was addicted to stems and only he could chose his direction. Recovery or ruin was in front of him now.
"It's time for me to get back to work. I think they'll be okay for now," Michael said. "Keep an eye on them, just in case."
"Yes, sir."
As soon as his boss was out of sight Zack drank the last of the remaining coffee left by him. It wasn't the best he ever had. It was true; officers really did get the best stuff first.
Onboard the Enterprise-D, Stephen sat wearily in the office of the Ships' Doctor. The woman looking at him seemed to be trying to decide whether to help him or kick him through the nearest bulkhead. It was abundantly clear that Beverly Crusher was angry-no; make that very mad-at him. Her eyes were flashing and for a moment he wondered if this was the best place for him to come to for help.
"So, how long have you known?"
"As long as I've known you," she replied. "You overwork, you've been increasingly grouchy and you don't have a clue about delegating responsibilities." She got out of her chair and began to pace the room. "I could have reported my suspicions to the Captain, but I kept hoping that you be responsible and deal with this on your own. But like any good doctor, you've typically ignored the signs."
"You could have said something," responded Stephen who felt suspiciously like a kid who was being taken to task for breaking a window.
"And would you have listened? I don't think so," she said answering her own question. She moved back towards him. "What are you going to do?"
I almost killed my patient. "Stephen's eyes glazed over. "I can't continue like this. I came so close." If the patient had died, he did not believe that he could live with himself, he thought. Michael was right to confront me. My friend was right. "I am going to have to kick this habit before I am of use to anyone."
"That's correct," Beverly confirmed as she returned to her chair. "You have to. Now, I can cure your physical addition to stems, but I can't cure your desire for them. That's something that you have to do."
She was correct. With their medical technology she could cure him. But then what? "I have to find myself," he muttered.
"What?" She hadn't fully heard what he said.
"I have to find myself," he repeated, more forcefully this time.
Beverly Crusher sighed loudly. "Fool."
"Excuse me?"
"So much like a man," she snarled. "I have to go find myself," she mimicked. "You will stay here on the Enterprise-D, until I say you're fit for duty."
Stammering: "You can do this! I can't be your patient." He didn't like this idea at all. He needed to be free to figure this out on his own.
"You won't be my patient, doctor." She smiled deviously. "Dr. Shalva will be your psych therapist."
"But she's a Vulcan," he protested. "She has no idea what it's like. Deanna would be better."
Crusher was having none of that. "Try her. Wait, let me change that," she said. "You WILL try her. B5 needs you at its best. A war is coming and your Captain has enough problems without his chief medical officer, strung out on stems and psychologically unstable."
"I'll consider it."
"Patients come to you for help, Stephen," Crusher said. She had to convince him to stay. "I think that's why you're here. Be an example for your patients. Be an example for me," she whispered.
'But she's too old' was the first thing that passed thru his mind. But then why did he come here in he first place? To get help? To talk to someone? Or was there something more?
"I really have to think about this."
Dr. Crusher got back up and prepared an injector. "May I?"
He simply shook his head and she administered the drug directly into his artery. Quickly, he became woozy. "What did you give me, Doctor?" He was becoming more tired by the second.
"Antidote and a sedative," answered Beverly. "You need the rest and you know how Doctors and Captains are about that. See you in twenty-four."
He was light-headed now and fading fast. Did she say twenty-four? That was his last coherent thought before he began snoring deeply.
"Crusher to Babylon Five."
Please inform Security Chief Garibaldi that Dr. Franklin will be on medical leave for the next few days onboard the Enterprise-D. If he can, I would like to speak with him when he has the time."
"Acknowledged, Enterprise."
"CTS to Commander Riker, I have an emergency transport in progress, Security alert!"
Onboard the Battleship Enterprise-D, Chief Transport Specialist Miles O'Brien finished transporting Commander Data, Lieutenant Troi, and B'Elanna Torres into transporter room four. As per standard procedure, only Federation personnel identified by the pattern buffers completed transport. The other patterns remained in the buffer now being controlled manually.
"Security to transporter room four," Data said the instant he was free from stasis.
"No, Data," Deanna corrected. "Considering our prisoners, Security should consist of Betazoids or Vulcans.
"A wise precaution, Doctor," Data responded. "Mr. O'Brien, Commander Ivanova is in transport stasis. Please complete her transport sequence."
"Yes, sir." He was able to identify her from her transporter pattern from the Ambassador's data transfer. Her transporter pattern, as well as all of the command staff who had used the transporters so far, were shared by both ships. "Completing transport now."
A stunned and somewhat shaken Susan Ivanova solidified and stepped off the transport hub. This was her second transporter trip so she had some idea of what was happening. "Where are they?" she snarled. "Are they still on B5?"
"No, Commander. They are inside that," Data said pointing to the computer console next to O'Brien. "When Security comes we will complete transport."
Seconds later, security was there, consisting of a team of five, three Betazoids and two Vulcans. In addition Dr. Selar had joined them, as was standard protocol in these emergencies.
Both of them appear to have weapons of some type," the Chief said. "I'm inactivating them now." He touched several interface touch pads. "Done, sir."
"Mr. O'Brien, please complete the transport now. And activate the containment field."
"Energizing…"
As they all watched, two forms began to take shape on the transporter pads. The re-configured woman was screaming, trying to fire her weapon. Both Psi-Corps cops were completely disoriented and more or less petrified. O'Brien left the room as fear turned quickly into anger. And in anger both telepaths lashed out at their captors.
Then they started screaming.
In his fear and hatred Bester howled. "Stop it! What are you doing?!"
The pain ceased and both gasped in blessed relief.
Deanna moved closer to the two prisoners. "You see what I mean, Mr. Bester? We would cause you distress if we joined you. There would be war. Welcome to the Enterprise-D."
He was paralyzed-literally. 'Stasis field' he heard. He couldn't move. How did he get on the ship? Then he remembered Deanna and the meld and he understood exactly what the transporter was. What a device! It was a fantastic weapon. Next to him, Jackie Thompson's fear was leaving her as comprehension dawned. They were surrounded by telepaths. Powerful ones like Deanna-no-even more powerful, more refined. And those other aliens were so, so logical in their thoughts. They had allowed him a peripheral glance into their minds before they slammed the door shut. The others had violently reflected his and Jackie's combined mental strike back onto them. It was the first time he understood what that type of pain truly felt like. He had inflicted a similar pain on many others, but never had he experienced it, not like this. And there was more-
-Alternate reality. These people were not from around here. In fact they weren't even from this universe! No wonder they were so different!
"So, how do you like their little travel device?" That was Susan's voice. "Fascinating, isn't it?"
Susan was gloating again, clearly enjoying his entrapment. How he hated that! Somehow every time he came to this wretched place they had humiliated him, laughed at him, at every opportunity. Well, now he had something on them.
Ignoring the Commander he spoke directly to the Betazoid. "I guess you realize that the 'cats' out of the bag, so to speak," he said trying to regain some control of the situation. "Deanna you have something on me and I have something on you. Talk about illegal aliens!" he laughed. "You're not from this galaxy or should I say not from this universe's galaxy anyway." His laughter was strained. He and his partner were trying to read their enemy's mind but there was mental static everywhere. "I'll make a deal with you. You keep our little secrets and we'll keep yours."
"What secret?" she asked. "You mean this?" Deanna opened herself up and everyone with the exceptions of Data and Susan 'heard and saw' the results of her mind meld with Bester.
One of the security members activated the main computer and began speaking in the comm system and relating everything to Commanders Data and a pale Ivanova.
Realizing what was happening, Jackie was livid. "Stop her!" she screamed, pleaded with Bester as though he could do something about it. "SHE'S TELLING THEM EVERYTHING!"
"Yes, Jackie Thompson. I am. We don't care if you know where we come from. That is a far less interesting secret than are yours, you must admit. I am sure the Captain will be most interested in you trying to kill members of his crew."
Bester wanted to kill everyone in the room, the whole ship, in fact. Everything was about to be exposed.
I guess trying to kill me was a bad idea, Deanna 'pathed' at them. Ignoring their ravings as both were transported directly to detention, she walked towards B'Elanna and hugged the shocked woman. "Thank you. You were willing to get trying to save me."
The young woman returned the hug tentatively, then completely and fully. She was smiling at Deanna. "You haven't finished my psych sessions yet. I didn't want to have to break in another doctor," she whispered mockingly. "I didn't want to lose you."
Deanna looked at her. She really meant it. "Have you reached a decision?"
"I would like to stay on the Ambassador. I think I would like to learn more about engineering under Lieutenant Gomez. She's a little hyper but very good."
"And there's Lieutenant Jensen."
Torres flushed slightly.
"He does like you, you know," she said pushing in the dagger a little. He had been security for her since she was on board. They had been sparing with one another forever. Some of their comments and profanities against one another bordered towards art.
"Do you think that Captain Garrett will allow me to stay?"
"Probably yes. If Mr. Worf decides to stay, I am sure she would consider you as well. But what about the Klingons? They may want you back."
She became a little angry. "I decide what I want to do, who I want to be with. Besides they will be glad to be rid of me."
"Hello, my name is Mr. Morden."
Picard's manner was pleasantly cool. "Well, Mr. Morden, you're interfering with a private conversation," Captain Picard announced somewhat harshly. He and Rachel knew that the man was coming but had elected to stay to keep from arousing any suspicion that they had been forewarned. Guinan suggested that they have the Enterprise covertly scan them during the possible meeting, which was now coming to pass. He agreed. It was interesting to note how Rachel shifted into her poker face, a cross between indifference and complete hostility. He was surprised that he found it rather engaging.
"I am very sorry, but I represent a party that is very interested in helping you return to your colony."
"I am afraid that that may be beyond the ability of your party to help us in that way," Picard said. "And as for any formal negotiations I must refer you to our ambassador, Guinan."
Trying not to react as much as he could about going back to see Guinan, he pressed on. "Captains, it would be in your interest to hear what I have to say." He moved closer but Rachel's stare rooted him to the spot. "We can help you get back to your part of the galaxy. That is where you want to go, isn't it? I'm sure that my associates can provide information to make that journey a reality."
"Mr. Morden, right now we want to go somewhere where we can have a conversation without every single person interfering every few minutes."
Obviously frustrated, he redoubled his smile. "Well, I guess I'll have to speak to Ambassador Guinan," said Morden after a few seconds of struggle.
Captain Garrett was looking at him, perplexed. "Is there a problem, Mr. Morden?"
"No, Captain. Perhaps I can talk to you another time."
Morden noticed her smile and the slight nodding of her head as she said, "Perhaps."
That made the thing on his face change to something resembling a real smile. He left invigorated.
The two Captains relaxed once more and continued their conversations until Captain Picard's comm beeped. "Report."
"Scans report all clear," Tasha said. "You were right, Captain. We did find something. Whoever that person was he wasn't alone."
"Specify."
"The man talking to you was Human, but there was something else, almost like cloaked images all around him. We refined the scans and got a clear image."
"What took you so long to give us the all clear?"
"One of the cloaked entities remained next to you for almost ten minutes. That's why there was a delay from us calling you."
A cloaked entity? Neither of them had noticed anything amiss. He and Garrett suspected that something similar, maybe a planted bug that would record their immediate conversations. In Picard's opinion, the man's presentation was slicker than oil. So, they continued casually, until the Enterprise gave them the all clear. But invisible creatures had not occurred to them.
"I think you better have a look, sir. We can transmit the image to your quarters."
They both got up. "Make it so."
"Vir, make sure there are enough flowers! I want the whole room filled with flowers, real flowers! Not the replicated ones!"
Vir Cotto, Londo's assistant, aid and some might say best friend, shook slightly when he thought of the cost this little indulgence. Flowers were expensive on a space station, sometimes going for more than a hundred credits apiece, and Londo wanted a room full of them. He shook again. If only he had that kind of money, flowers would be the last thing on his list. However it was not his money therefore one did what the boss told one to do. But still he felt obligated to count the costs.
"Londo," the slightly plumb aide said. "Are you sure? It's going to cost a lot of money. I mean a lot." A lot.
Don't worry, "he was assured. "We will put it on the ambassadorial account."
Oh joy, Vir thought. Hopefully it wouldn't hurt his check this month. He began ordering the flowers just before Londo, now feeling more relaxed, left the room.
Londo, despite the ever-mounting problems being heaped upon his shoulders was feeling giddy right now. His beloved Adira was coming to see him. She was the only woman in his life right now that he truly loved. She gave him light in the darkness that seemed to be consuming him.
Adira was once nothing more than a meager slave girl, but one of such beauty of soul- that she had captured his heart and now she was coming here to see him. The woman truly cared for him and that made him feel like a young man, almost making him forget the political serpents coiled around his feet. Humans, Federations, Klingons, Minbari, Shadows, all were swept aside by the emotions burning in his chest right now. For the moment, not even Refa's stupidity would bother him. He almost felt happy, a feeling he barely remembered during all these long months.
Those wonderful feelings dissipated as soon as he turned the corner of his hallway. For some reason the overhead lights darkened and before he realized it, his antagonist Mr. Morden, was waiting for him at the other end of the corridor. Londo could tell he was not in a good mood. It was clear that he purposefully sat up this little impromptu meeting.
"Hello Londo. It's good to see you again," Morden said, meaning none of it. "I am sorry to say that my associates are not pleased at you for reneging on our deal. They were relying on you to fulfill your part of the bargain. We needed you to be our contact in the Centauri government."
"You mean spy, don't you," Londo corrected. "No, Mr. Morden. This little bargain you set up was not for my benefit any more than those little wars you have going with the non-aligned worlds, yes? I got to thinking about why you have so many conflicts going on, weakening everyone's resources including m government and what I discovered, I did not like. My people are in the same situation as everyone else."
"Londo. We need your government to continue their actions against the non-aligned worlds." There, Morden thought, the truth was finally out. "We honored your request and you turned on us."
"Just as you will soon turn on my people? No, Mr. Morden," he said sensing the not-so-veiled threat. "You and your associates will have to find some other way to solve your little difficulties other than by the expense of my people."
The shadows across Morden's face darkened, even as Mollari heard small-unidentified noises brush past his right ear. Turning to identify where the sound came from, he saw nothing.
"Londo, if you don't reconsider-"
"What? You will threaten to kill me? I still won't agree. There is nothing you can do to me that hasn't already been tried. So go ahead. Do what you want. It will make no difference. I have already made this clear to Lord Refa."
"He was never our first choice Londo, and we would never consider killing you," said a hurt looking Morden. "But if you can't help us, would you at least tell us a little more about Ambassador Guinan?"
"You have already met her, yes?"
A disturbed Shadow agent shook his head. "Yes. And she was particularly non-receptive. You didn't by chance-say anything to her?"
Londo was surprised and pleased that he didn't get anywhere with her. "No, I didn't say anything to her. She is a very perceptive person. Maybe she just didn't like you. Maybe your vibes as she likes to say, didn't agree with her."
There was a flicker of hostility and then that phony smile was plastered on Morden's face again. "Do you have any idea what she might be interested in?"
Besides going home? He thought about it for a second. "I have been made to understand that she loves making exotic drinks. Maybe if you offer her some recipes her attitude may change." He smiled.
Morden frowned and again Londo heard those frightening noises. "Londo if you change your mind, I'll be around."
"I'm so glad to hear that," Londo said as he quickly left the Human's presence.
If he turned around Londo may have noticed a spidery shadow taking form next to Morden. There were sounds coming from the creature now, vicious and much louder.
"No. We don't have to kill him. I have a plan that will return him back to the us."
The shadow faded once more and Morden was again seemingly alone.
Captain Sheridan was enraged. How dare Kosh turn his back on him after all the things he had done for him? He made his feelings quite clear. Kosh had essentially done nothing except throw out comments most people couldn't understand. He enjoyed being cryptic and John was sick of it.
"Leave. Now," Kosh had said after energy slapping John.
"No," came his response.
"Impudence," Kosh growled, moving closer to enforce those words.
"Up yours," Sheridan retaliated, not backing down for a second.
And that's when Kosh drew first blood and John felt pain and something else. Hurt, even betrayal. He had begun to trust him Kosh, who now would not help when needed most. However, that was secondary, because he was angry because Kosh was angry.
"You want to kill me," he asked. "Well, you'll have to because that's the only way I'm leaving. I've got nothing to lose. Unless you get off your encounter-suited butts and do something, I'll die anyway. Hell, even my own government wants to kill me. The Minbari can't protect B5 forever, the Alliance is falling apart and those Federation ships are a two-edged sword. They're helping but at the same time, my own government may attack us all simply get at them. We need a small victory, something and you are the key to it. Shadows are destroying everything. So, if my death, helps you balance out the books, then so be it."
"It is not time. But-"
John heard him say as he felt the energy radiating from Kosh slowly subside.
"I will do as you suggest. But there will be a price."
"There always is." Here it comes, he thought.
"I will not be there to help you when you go to Z'ha'dum'."
"Of course," sneered John. "You have to exact a price? That's okay. I'll go it alone without your help and I will die."
"You will," the Vorlon said. "Now."
"I thought better of you, Kosh," Sheridan said rather harshly. "I thought…"
He was silent for a moment as he faced the alien ambassador and his supposed friend. He wrung his hands, and then rubbed the pain from his neck. "Withhold your help."
You do not understand," the Vorlon said as he walked away from the Captain. "But you will." He turned left, then stopped and proceeded to go right instead, away from his quarters.
It was another small difference that would chance everything.
Not fully understanding what just happened, which was the usual case with Vorlons, Sheridan turned towards the command center.