Susan walked back with heavy feet towards Medlab. The Dockers guild had been insistent on seeing her, even though this time tomorrow she wouldn't be in charge of the station. She was almost glad of Stephen calling her out of that damned meeting. When she joined Earth force she had never intended to be in meetings involving money.
She stepped forward into the transport tube beside a tall man dressed all in black. He had long blond hair down past his shoulders. He smiled at her briefly and looked back to the doors again. He said nothing. The tube moved down a few levels then stopped. Three arguing Drazi stepped in and both Susan and the man stepped back. She raised her hand to her forehead and rubbed her temple, unable to avoid her headache.
The man watched, then smiled again. As if a bubble had appeared around her, suddenly she couldn't hear the Drazi anymore. Confused, Susan looked up.
"Captain Ivanova?" The man asked, sounding particularly sure of himself. He was very calm, and had an English accent- another English accent.
She merely nodded, trying to gauge what was going on. Was he a telepath?
"My name is Byron," he spoke softly, his voice almost lulling her. "I've been trying to meet with you all day, but you have seemed rather busy. It is with the utmost importance you meet with me in Brown 3 in about half an hour. Bring no-one else with you."
"What's in Brown 3?" She asked, almost alarmed by her lack of suspicion towards this man. She seemed almost in a trance- a dizzy whirl of bureaucracy, a dead ranger and the Dockers guild had left her dis- orientated enough to listen to him.
"My people are gathering there." He paused and the smile dropped into a visage of concern. He stepped forward and touched her temple. "I fear you will need us before long."
His hand broke away and the lift doors opened, he glanced back for a moment, smiled again and walked out. As she lost sight of him, the noise of the three Drazi instantly came back to her.
Susan rounded the next corner into med-lab. She couldn't see Stephen immediately on her arrival, did he think her time was infinite? If he was going to call her he could at least be around.
"Stephen?" She called out, wincing when she realised that Marcus was in the next room and had probably heard her.
Franklin appeared from the other side of the Iso lab, wiping his hands on a cloth. "That was quick." He remarked as to her prompt appearance. Her punctuality as of late had been a little lax.
"You called me out of a meeting I didn't want to be in. For once I'm glad to be here, I only wish it were under better circumstances." She explained, hoping that Stephen wouldn't give her a report that would enlarge her headache. "So... what did the autopsy show?"
"PPG shot straight to the heart. The superheated helium tore through his ribcage, incinerated his heart and broke the 15th and 16th vertebrae. I'd say that he's been dead for about a week, but he hasn't been in space that long. A few hours maybe."
"So do you think he was killed elsewhere?" Ivanova inquired, lowering her voice slightly, not wishing the whole of med-lab to hear about murdered ranger- especially Marcus.
Stephen sighed and thought for a moment. He drew together his verbal conclusion. "There's no record of him boarding the station, so most likely the body was left here for us to find."
"Do you think this has something to do with the inauguration? What with the sign we found on him?"
"Maybe. It looks like the killer knew what they were doing." Franklins voice seemed to trail off, he seemed to be going into one of his long tangents on the sanctity of life again. For once Susan felt disheartened enough to join him.
"You know it's strange." He began, staring past her, not particularly focusing on anything. "I've treated thousand of patients- performed more autopsies that I can remember- or should ever want to remember."
He sighed again, Susan realised how much that Rangers body had upset him. But this was a situation they hadn't had to deal with before. Murdered Rangers were not common place.
"When a body comes through that door and there's nothing you can do for them, I always wonder who they were. Somebody's sibling, Somebody's child, somebody's parent, spouse, friend. The difference they made in the universe...and what could be gained from their death."
Susan decided to jump on the bandwagon as well. As she well knew, being depressed on your own is no fun. "What does God gain from taking anyone? And why take someone so young?"
Stephen semi-smiled at her, glad to see he was for once not travelling this train of thought alone. "The fragility of humanity is something that will plague us forever, So I suppose we must appreciate the moments. Cling to every second."
He smiled again, and raised his eyes to her. He'd miss her very much when she went. "I'm glad it's not just me having these thoughts."
"You're awfully maudlin today." Ivanova remarked to her friend. His smile was fading, he looked depressed now as well.
"I'm loosing one of my best friends Susan- what do you want me to feel?" He added with an almost angry edge to his voice. This wasn't very Stephen like. "And when the hell are you gonna tell Marcus?" He said a little louder, half hoping that Marcus would overhear.
"I will." Susan added, not appreciating being chided twice in one day. "Soon."
"How about now? Considering you're not even supposed to be here." Franklin retorted. He really didn't feel she was being fair on Marcus.
"Stephen," She began, trying to find a way out of this without confronting her saviour. "Don't you think he's got enough to deal with at the moment without hearing that I'm-"
"Don't use that as an excuse." Franklin cut her off. There was no way in hell he was telling Marcus after the fact. "You should tell him the truth."
He paused for a moment, not wishing to start an argument with Susan over this. After all, he was only her friend, and Marcus friend. He was only a close observer of what'd happened recently. Why should he have to get involved? Especially as Susan was so lacking in gratitude she wasn't even going to tell Marcus she was going.
"Well, it's your prerogative." He continued, dropping the subject for the moment. "You could at least go and talk to him now. He's driving me nuts."
At that moment an object came flying out of the doorway of the side room and landed at Susans' feet, It seemed Marcus was having another fit of frustration with his rubix cube.
"Again?" Stephen enquired, raising his voice towards Marcus direction.
"Sorry!" Marcus voice projected into the rest of med-lab.
"Twelfth time today Marcus."
"Better than counting my toes." He remarked, the length of his captivity beginning to show through the wearing thin of his humour. "Is Susan out there?"
"I'm just sending her in." Franklin yelled before turning back to a rather irate Ivanova. "Can't escape it now." He teased before becoming a little more serious. "C'mon, he wants to see you."
Susan tried to push her anxiety aside. How bad could it be? It was Marcus, he just wanted someone to talk to. What did she have to be nervous about? Only that five weeks previously he'd tried to die to save her- because he was madly in love with her. Only that now she noticed how he looked at her. Only that tomorrow she was going to leave him behind. What did she have to be nervous about?
"Knock, Knock." She said aloud and far too cheerfully, standing at the threshold of the room. He looked different.
"Hey." Marcus greeted her sitting up. He looked her up and down- she always found that unsettling. "Long time no see." He spoke wryly. She looked nervous as hell, probably feeling guilt ridden at leaving him alone for three days. Good.
"Yeah, sorry about that." She apologised handing him his well dented rubics- cube. He'd been working on it for a week and no joy. "You know how crazy it gets around here." Marcus rolled his eyes in reply and looked back as his rubics-cube, as if he were trying to make the answer appear to him through gazing at it. It gave the impression he was becoming a little self-absorbed and dis-jointed from reality. "How are you feeling?" Ivanova inquired, not too sure if he were still upset with her.
"Like Chicken." He replied curtly, placing the cube on the locker beside him. He supposed he'd better let her off the hook- she did have a hell of a lot of responsibility at the moment. He had just liked living with the delusion that he was more important than her busy lifestyle. Finally he cracked his face into a smile to reassure her.
Relieved, she returned his smile. He still looked terrible. He was horrendously underweight and still pale enough to pass for a dead man. He'd taken such a long time coming back this time. It'd taken three weeks for him to heal where Stephen had operated. He'd been barely able to speak for the first week, most of the time he was in too much pain to know what was going on. After that he started sleeping less and started trying to get out of bed and escape.
"Stephen said you were being a pain in the ass." Susan remarked, sitting beside him and looking at him again. He was different- it was blatantly obvious what was so different. His beard was almost gone. He must of only had a couple of days growth there. "What happened to your beard?"
Marcus sighed and leaned back, folding his arms to show his annoyance and protest. "They shaved me." For a moment, Susan thought it was quite funny- but she quickly reconsidered. There was nothing so funny about being incapable of taking care of yourself. However Marcus had continued on to make a point.
"Yesterday I went missing and washed my hair before it went the same way." He smiled, hoping that Stephen was listening out there with one ear. He was going to get Franklin back for this at some point. "Don't know what Stephen got so worried about, I was only in the bathroom. Took twice as long 'cause I had a sodding I.V in my arm." Susan couldn't help but laugh. How his good humour had for the most part remained intact she couldn't figure out. "Do you have any idea how difficult that makes it?" He added before concluding. "Bloody impossible."
"So are you." She remarked, seeing instantly how he lit up when she smiled. How it egged him on to talk some more mindless crap.
"Well if you'd been here over a month you'd be more than mildly peeved and throwing rubix-cubes." He gestured over to a bowl with unidentified mush inside it. "I mean the food's terrible."
Susan picked up the bowl and stirred it around. It looked like- no, she saved herself the mental image. "Urgh." She remarked, scooping it up and dropping it back in. "No wonder you have no appetite."
"It'd help if I knew what it was."
"Well it's erm," She began, seeing Marcus silently inviting her to enlighten him as to the content of his dinner. "-it's...it's brown."
"Tastes brown too." He concluded as she replaced the bowl back on the table. "So, is the station that busy?"
"As always." Susan added, with the intension to begin to work towards the uncomfortable revelation about her departure. "It's funny," She stated, wondering how many hints she'd have drop before he began to get the idea. He'd worked out Sinclairs' course of action on Babylon 4 before everyone else had, maybe now his powers of deduction could make a remarkable return to form. "It never really occurred to me how much John did around here. Things are gonna be hell of a different."
"Have you taken his office yet?" He asked, seeming to take a genuine interest in station affairs. Apart from two med-techs having sex in a closet last week it was pretty dull in there.
Ivanova paused before she answered, knowing that while she couldn't lie, his mind was certainly now verified as on the wrong side of the road to hear about her imminent departure. "Just about. It's hell of a pair of shoes to fill. I still can't get over being called captain, people have to holler three times before it sinks in."
"I wont give you that problem." He added, before his face suddenly grimaced and he groaned. She'd almost forgotten about how much pain he had been in- so naturally the universe had to reassert itself before she got too comfortable. Marcus closed his eyes and breathed deeply, with only one onomatopoeic statement to make about his current situation.
"Ow."
"You want me to get Stephen?" Susan asked, feeling very awkward at witnessing this. She'd been more comfortable in a room of Drazi playing purple vs. green.
"No, I'm Ok. Just reminding myself why I'm here." Marcus sighed and lay back, staying quiet for a few moments. He was probably calling on his ranger training to ignore what was going on. Perhaps that was where his frequent random topics of conversation came from. Particularly the next remark as looked upward and started a new gripe on the med-lab thread. "Strip lighting. I really hate strip lighting. I mean after staring at it for five weeks – "He looked up at Susan and forced out a smile. "I swear if there's a hell it has strip lighting."
She smiled back at him as he closed his eyes. He wasn't fooling her, obviously his Ranger training had not got up to the stage of enlightenment where he could transcend his own body. Perhaps that's where the Minbari got their strength and pain threshold from.
"Not long now." He commented, keeping his eyes closed from the accursed strip lighting. "A couple of days and I'm out of here."
"I don't know who'll be happier, you or Stephen."
He laughed, but his face still twisted in pain. He breathed uneasily and turned his head away from her. He didn't want her to see, it wasn't fair to ask her to watch- but since when had the universe ever been fair?
Susan sat beside, unable to help, but not able to leave him either. She hated being paralysed into futility of presence. She could do nothing for him but watch. Watch what he was enduring- for her. An awkward moment of silence followed, his hand gripped at the mattress, clenching his fingers around it. He shouldn't be doing this, she thought. Not alone. She reached out and touched his hand.
Images crashed into her thoughts, an ocean against a harbour wall. A sea that swelled of pain and regret. She had slipped into his mind without even realising it.
He couldn't breathe. His lungs were frozen in agony. Marcus panicked. He didn't want to die. Not alone. Not like this. But he was out of time- and out of air.
Susan didn't want to witness this. She didn't want to know the terrible sensations the healing device had inflicted upon him.
He lowered his head into his hands again, and wept quietly. There was no comfort in the universe, no absolution for being alive. Desperation and self-loathing were upon him.
Why did he have these thoughts? What the hell could drive him to desperation that extreme? Why was she the nexus around these thoughts?
She broke contact with him, both physical and mental. Holy crap, what was going on? He hadn't moved, he hadn't even noticed-
"Marcus I- I have to go." She stammered out quickly, increasingly petrified by what had just happened.
"O.k." Marcus mumbled, now wondering where this sudden change of heart had come from. "I'll see you soon, right?"
She lied to him. She had no intent of seeing him again. She hadn't wanted any of this, to know his thoughts, for him to take the actions he had...she couldn't tell him. "Sure." She replied, not moving toward the door. This was not how she wanted to think of him. She didn't even want to think of him if truth be told. "Don't do anything else stupid." She added, trying to veil her hard wrought emotions with humour.
"My stupidity quota's full for the next few months." He replied, still trying to figure what was going on beyond his level of pain.
"Goodbye." She said before finally walking out of the door- knowing that this would probably the last time they'd speak...for a while.
Susan entered Brown 3- finding it apparently empty. Was this really a good idea? Coming down here alone? She could see the headline- "Ivanova nearly gets off Station alive." This'd be such a bad time to get killed...but at least it'd save her having to say goodbye to everyone. Typical Russian- finding the good in every situation.
She turned for a moment, thinking that she heard something. Deciding it was nothing, she turned back. She was still twitchy from what had happened in Med-lab. Byron stood in front of her.
Susan jumped slightly, wondering how hard it was to mentally distract someone enough to creep up on them. But again, he gave her a disarming smile. He was very charismatic, she noticed a small group of people also stood down the corridor, all dressed in black. She wondered who'd died.
He folded his hands behind his back and spoke softly. "Captain, thank you for coming. I had hoped that you would."
"Is there a point to this or are you wasting what little time I have?" Susan replied to his politeness. She didn't have a bad feeling about Byron per-say. But he made her uncomfortable. Perhaps in the future she should just write off speaking to anyone with shoulder length hair and an English accent.
"Of course," He began, realising what level he had to work at. "I wouldn't wish to interrupt that headache you still have."
Susan paused for a moment.
He knew. He'd scanned her. The son of a- No, she wouldn't let it get to her. "What do you want?" She asked, the danger in her voice increasing. Susan began to wonder why she had come unarmed.
"You are direct." Byron remarked, noting to himself the formidable will of this woman. She would be a bad person to get on the wrong side of. "Very well, I will not waste your invaluable time." He gestured behind him, silently introducing the group. "They are also telepaths. We are all rogues- those who would not join the corps or take the sleeper drugs. We have come here, as an independent Babylon 5 is our greatest hope for creating a home for ourselves, and for more who will come."
He paused, allowing Ivanova time to absorb the information he had given her. "We ask only that we are allowed to remain here and use the station as a meeting place. We do not intend to stay here forever, eventually, we wish to create a home world for ourselves and others who do not wish to join the Psi-corps."
His ideals were commendable, but little more than ideals. Why did all the political idealists always land at her feet? And why were they always stubborn and incomprehensible of the word surrender?
"Why do I get the feeling that you're the kind of person who wont let an idea go?"
"Perhaps Captain, but where is it written that all our dreams must be small ones?" He retorted, challenging her cynicism.
"On my schedule." She replied curtly, not particularly in the mood for whatever schemes this self appointed messiah had. "Look, I'm sorry but this isn't my jurisdiction. If you want to set up camp here, make an appointment with Sheridan."
She turned to go. Telepaths made her uncomfortable, Psi-corps or not. This man seemed to have a little too much Charisma, too much charm and willingness to win her over. It wasn't that she didn't sympathise, she just didn't want to get involved. Not if her suspicion about this headache were true.
"Wait." He called to her, perhaps he had considered another approach. Ivanova turned to see one of the telepaths had stepped forward and seemed to almost hang at Byrons' sleeve. He was skinny looking figure, and couldn't have been more than fifteen.
"One of us would like to speak with you." Byron continued, gently urging the young teep to open up a dialogue. "Go ahead Simon."
Ivanova was a little taken aback by the next action. It was by far the most innovative way she'd seen anyone try to convince her of something- and that was saying a lot considering the people she was surrounded by daily. "Carnations." She commented, finding importance in the smallest detail. "Flowers. What the-"
"This is Simon." He was introduced, still remaining a pace behind Byron. "He is the youngest of us. He can remember everything that has happened to him since he was born- and what's more, he can project those memories into other peoples minds." He stopped and stepped forward. Speaking at a lesser volume seemed a little superfluous in a corridor of telepaths but Byron continued his to lower his voice, creating some sort of verbal intimacy.
"I believe the flowers were a peace offering. He doesn't wish to get off on the wrong foot."
"I'm sorry," She addressed Simon individually. "I don't mean to seem so-" She paused, realising that he did not seem to be engaged through linguistics.
"He doesn't speak." Byron explained. "He does not wish to- to any of us."
Susan thought for a moment. If things had been different, If she hadn't been able to fool the Psi-corp testing centres all though school, that could have been her. She remembered another young telepath she'd help get away from the corps only a few years ago- she couldn't be jaded by war and time into not caring, no matter what the universe had thrown at her since Alyssa had passed through B5.
"He looks terrible, look, take him down to med-lab and ask to see Dr Franklin. Tell him I sent you."
"Thank you." Byron seemed grateful, but somehow he did not want to continue living in fear, surviving off the charity of others. Susan could sense a certain pride about him. "We do not wish to live on handouts though. We will work to keep ourselves, all we wish for now is to remain here." Last year they might have had their uses in the shadow war, but at the moment a group of telepaths may only arouse suspicion in the alliance, that Sheridan was using telepaths to spy on the other member races. But then again, they might have their uses. "We can do a lot for the alliance captain, and perhaps even for you."
But in the end, it wasn't up to Susan. She could make a decision today only to have it rescinded by the new C:O tomorrow. It wouldn't be fair to give a definite answer.
"Look, maybe you didn't know but I wont be around for very long. I can drop in a word for you to Sheridan- but it's not my business."
Byron smiled again, as if he suspected something. It was the same look he'd given her in the transport tube.
"No, it isn't yet. But soon."
John pondered over the messages. He wasn't afraid, but more alarmed. After he had called in Zac to take a look, he played over the last line of the audio message again, listening to the determination behind the threat.
"Maybe I'll go to Hell for that, but I'm taking you with me."