Chapter 8
5:48, February 4, 2262, Hyperspace.
Early morning found the Rasputin and the other vessels in the small fleet still ploughing their way slowly through Hyperspace towards the Proxima system. Normally they would have been able to make the short journey to Earth's first interstellar colony considerably faster than they were now, but the presence of the two troops transports was slowing progress. Not wanting to leave the vulnerable vessels unprotected the small fleet was forced to reduce it's speed to that of it's slowest members.
On the Rasputin itself all was quiet, as most of the crew slumbered through the early morning. The bridge and engineering decks were busy, of course, as they had to be during flight, but the rest of the hundreds of corridors and dozens of workstations were empty of all but the occasional crewmember. In the pilot's recreation room, however, one troubled soul was spending the early morning watching the swirl of hyperspace pass by rather that sleep.
Located in the bow of the warship, the room looked out over the space in front of the ship. Like all the Rasputin's rooms it had no portholes, instead there were cameras mounted in the external hull and holographic displays on the walls that gave the appearance of large open windows without the reduction in the ship's hull strength such portals would require.
Normally, the room would be crowded with fighter pilots and ground crew, all busy playing one of the various holographic games that scattered throughout the room or watching the vid networks, maybe even catching up on messages from home. Instead, it was empty, as the Rasputin's commander had decided to only maintain the minimum crew necessary to runs the ships system on duty during the journey through Hyperspace. The hyperspace route between Earth and Proxima was among the safest in the alliance and besides there would be plenty of time once they arrived at Proxima for the crews to adjust to the Rasputin's duty roster. Until then, there was nothing wrong with them being allowed one more night of good sleep.
Instead, the only person who could be found in the rec room was the captain herself. She sat in one of the padded chairs that faced the front of the ship, just watching the slow passage of the multi-coloured clouds of gases that made up Hyperspace. In her hand, she held a half-empty glass of vodka, but did not raise it to her lips, instead just choosing to sit and think, the beautiful chaos of Hyperspace luring her mind into reminiscence.
She still couldn't believe that Talia had walked into her life again. Susan had given her up for dead, thinking never to see her again, especially after what Bester had said. Instead here she was, just as beautiful and alive as before. At least that is how she appeared on the outside. Inside Susan knew that the Talia she knew, the woman she had loved, was just as dead as ever. Nothing of the old Talia had been in the eyes of the woman who had walked into the bridge yesterday. There had been no warmth, no feeling, just cold, unfeeling hatred.
Still seeing her again had bought back all the old feelings, the memories and thoughts she had hidden deep inside her so they could never again make her cry the way she had after Talia had walked out of her life. Now those memories came flooding back, bringing a familiar ache to her heart. She knew without doubt that she still loved Talia, and there was nothing that could ever compare to the few precious moments they had shared together that one night nearly two and half years ago.
Susan had always been a guarded person, never exposing herself to anyone. Always in the back of her mind, there was a fear of commitment, a fear of being hurt. The few times she had ever truly loved, she had been left alone, lost and adrift. It had started with her mother, who when she killed herself left Susan so alone. Ever since then those she loved and cared about had all left her. Talia had been the worst though. With no one since her mother had she shared so much, told so many secrets and given herself so fully.
Then Talia had been snatched from her, taken away by Psi-Corp and their hideous Control program. The old Talia was gone and what was left was a construct, a creature that was nothing more that the pure embodiment of all that was Psi-Corp. But it still had the same face, the same voice as her Talia and ever time she looked at her Susan knew that she would feel the same feelings, the same longing that she had felt for Talia. And every time she could not help but hope that somewhere, deep inside there was some small part of her Talia left, a tiny part that could grow and blossom once more into the woman she had loved.
A single tear rolled down Susan's cheek and angrily she brushed it away. 'No,' she thought. 'I will not cry for her again.' However, inside she knew she could not help it. Just as she had mourned her mother for years she would continue to morn Talia, and it was made even worse by the fact that Talia was still here, or at least her body was. Susan could not bury the memory of her when she was still alive.
She looked a little different than she had on Babylon 5, thinner than ever before, and her hair slightly longer, but Susan would never be able to forget how Talia looked, not even if she lived forever. That night they spent together, just a short, single night of passion, they had shared everything. Their minds had been as one, and to Susan, unexperienced in the way of telepaths it had been the single most magical experience in all her life.
To look into someone's mind and see their love for you reflected in every part of their body and soul was something Susan could never forget. All her experiences and loves before then paled into insignificance compared to what she and Talia shared that night. They have given each other more than just their bodies, they had given their minds, so totally that Susan felt that Talia had been a part of her ever since.
Only the love her mother had felt for her came close to what Susan had felt from Talia, and just as what had happened with her mother had changed her for life, her experiences with Talia had left her changed. Susan now knew that no matter what happened she could never love anyone the way she had loved Talia. Nothing could compare to what she had felt, experienced, and done with Talia.
Sure there had been others who had been interested in her since that day, Marcus the most persistent, but none could attract her attention. With another she knew it would not be the same, there was no way they could share each others feelings and thoughts as she had with Talia when their minds had joined for those few brief hours.
Unable to help herself Susan's tears now flowed freely down her face as she remembered all the old pain and hurt that had kept her awake so many nights on Babylon 5. Here she had hoped to escape those memories for good, but now the worst thing that had ever happened to her had come back and was happening to her again. Every time she spoke to Talia, she was going to have to face what had happened. Every time she heard her voice, she was going to have to remember it wasn't Talia.
"Captain," a voice called out suddenly from the shadows.
Susan jumped at the sound of the voice, for she hadn't seen anyone entering the room. She quickly began to dab at her eyes with the sleeve of her uniform, trying to cover up her tears. She knew she must look a real mess, and hadn't really wanted to look this way, to be seen this vulnerable.
"Captain," the voice called again, and this time she recognised as her flight commander Alister Schmitt. "Are you alright?"
She tried to put on a smile, but failed miserably. "I am fine Lieutenant-Commander," she said, trying to keep formal and aloof.
She wasn't fooling anyone though, least of all the observant pilot. He took a seat neat to her and after scrutinising her face looked pointedly at the glass in her hands. "You should not be drinking so early in the morning Captain," he said softly.
Susan looked down at the forgotten glass in her hand. She had poured it when she had first arrived in the room, but still hadn't taken a sip, so lost in her feelings and memories that it had become irrelevant. "Actually I haven't drunk anything yet," Susan replied. "I have just been sitting here and thinking."
Alister nodded. "This place is good for that, thinking I mean. If we had a place like this on the other ships I served on in the past, I think would have spent a lot of time there. There is something about Hyperspace that calms your soul, and makes you remember things long past."
Susan turned back to the look at the holographic windows again. She took a small sip of her drink, enjoying the way the vodka warmed her inside, restoring some of her calm. "Perhaps you are right. But something there are some things best left forgotten."
"That there are Captain," Alister agreed. "There are many things in my past that I would like to forget. Lost loves, and lost friends. I like I said earlier, I live by the code of the fighter pilot, and what does not kill me can not harm me. I have learned not to fear my memories, only to learn from them."
"I wish I could feel that way," Susan almost whispered, her voice still sad and lonely.
"But you can Captain," Alister said. "I read an ancient book once, one written by an old fighter pilot from the very beginning of the 20th century. He wrote a small introduction to one of his books that I can still remember today. Would you like me to tell you it?"
"If you like," Susan said. Inside though she only wanted to be left alone with her grief.
"Ok," Alister said. "Now how does it go again? Ah yes, that's right, I remember now. When you are flying, everything is all right or it is not all right. If it is all right then there is no need to worry. If it is not all right then one of two things will happen. Either you will crash or you will not crash. If you do not crash then you don't need to worry. If you do crash then one of two things will happen. Either you will be injured or you will not be injured. If you are not injured then there is no need to worry. If you are injured then one of two things will happen. Either you will recover or you will not recover. If you recover then there is no need to worry and if you don't recover then you can't worry."
Susan smiled faintly as Alister finished. "That is quite a good philosophy Mr Schmitt, but sometimes things are not quite so simple."
Alister looked at Susan, "Are you so sure Captain. I mean, when you get down to it, then it is that simple. To a fighter pilot like me there are only two outcomes whenever I go on a mission. Either I die or I live. If I live then I keep on going until the next mission, but if I die then that is it, I can no longer worry about anything."
"I would love to believe it," Susan said sadly. "But in my experience it has never been that simple for me. Even thought I have survived there are things that have happened in the past that I still remember."
Alister nodded. "From the war?" he asked.
"That and from before," Susan said. "There are some things no-one should ever have to go though."
"I agree Captain," Alister said gently. "Which is why I have taken every opportunity to avoid attachments. For someone in my job it is difficult to love."
"But you have a daughter," Susan said. "Surely you must have loved her mother."
"Once," Alister said. "But I have found marriage and relationships are very difficult when you never know where you are going to be stationed next. Do you know that in the twenty-one years my daughter has been alive I have only seen her about a dozen days a year. Sure we sent messages to each other, but I have never really known my daughter."
"Is that why you made sure she was transported here," Susan asked.
"Partially," Alister said. "But I didn't really want her to be a pilot like her father. She has too much of me in her though and despite my wishes she signed up. I guess that I wanted to help her, so when I was asked to select the pilots for the Rasputin I made sure that she was posted her so I can keep an eye on her."
"And so you could see her?" Susan asked.
"Yes, it has been difficult watching her growing up without me, and never really knowing her. I hope that I will now get a chance, as long as something bad doesn't happen. The life of a fighter pilot is a dangerous one, and looking back at how many died in the wars, I am grateful that my daughter wasn't one of them. I still don't know how I am going to handle her going out on missions."
"Sounds like your problems are nearly as bad as mine," Susan said as she fumbled around beside her chair for the bottle of vodka she had left there when filling her glass. Finding it, she pulled it out and offered it to the flight commander, "Drink?"
Alister smiled as he shook his head. "No thanks Captain, I never drink. I found that it clouds my judgement."
Susan nodded, "you are probably right." Then she poured the vodka in her glass back into the bottle careful not to spill a drop. "I thought that I could come here and forget about my troubles, but I guess some things you can't run from."
"No you can't captain," Alister agreed. "Some things you have to face down and defeat so you can get on with your life."
"That is the difficult part though isn't it," Susan said as she stoppered the bottle and put it aside.
"It is," Alister agreed. "Although sometime I have found that sharing your problems can help ease them."
Susan laughed harshly. "I don't think you would want to know my problems Lieutenant-Commander."
"Probably not Captain," he answered with a shrug. "But remember that if you ever need anything I am here. I might be nothing more than an old campaigner who didn't have the strength to stand up against what is wrong like you and Sheridan did, but I have seen a lot in my life."
"I will remember that," Susan said, her voice softer now. "But what I have to face I need to do so alone."
"As you wish Captain, but just remember you are not alone. While you are on this ship there are people there for you. I might not have known you long, but you are someone I think I can respect. You have stood up for what you believe in and the part of me that was too scared to do the same respects you for that."
"Thank you," she replied softly. "I won't forget that."
"I had best get going then," he said, standing and looking out the window. "I can't tell for sure, but it looks like we may be getting close to Proxima, so we will all be too busy doing our jobs soon to worry about our personal troubles. I have a large group of gung-ho pilots or organise into three flight wings and assign fighters to, and knowing them, each and every one of them will likely argue over which fighter they are assigned to."
Then, with a gentle, comforting, squeeze of Susan's shoulder he left the rec room, heading back towards the main flight deck. Susan sat there for several minutes longer thinking over what Alister had said. Although she agreed with his philosophy, it had never been that simple for her and she could not forget all that had happened so easily.
Thoughts of Talia again filled her mind as well as memories of the fear she had felt after the telepath had left. After the way they had loved each other Susan had lived for months in fear that Psi-Corp was going to come and take her away, having learnt of her telepathic abilities from their agent. Fortunately, that hadn't happened and she had remained safe, but many times during those months, she had wondered why they hadn't come for her.
She had never used her weak telepathic abilities for anything, except the brief moments when she had slipped into her mother thoughts and that night she had spent with Talia. However, that would have been enough for Psi-Corp to drag her away, ending not only her career, but also her life, because she knew she could not live as a member of Psi-Corp. Somehow though, that hadn't happened, and with a Psi-Corp representative now on board Susan was beginning to wonder if he was not here to watch her, which may explain why Talia was also here. Perhaps Psi-Corp was suspicious of her and hoped to lure her out by sending her former lover to entice her.
Susan dismissed that idea though. She knew the Psi-Corps didn't work that way. If they were suspicious of her, then they would have just taken her away. She had been expecting something to happen ever since she had returned to Earthforce, where Psi-Corp was still in control. However, so far nothing, not even a visit from Bester, who had delighted in taunting her and the rest of the crew whenever he had visited Babylon 5. Susan couldn't help but wonder why. They had Talia, so they must know everything she knew, and so they must know of her abilities. Anderson had certainly known of her relationship with Talia, otherwise he would not have made the comment he did on the bridge yesterday.
A sudden thought came to her, one that was frightening as much as it was comforting. Perhaps there was a chance that they didn't know, that the part of Talia that had loved her was still locked away somewhere deep inside her mind. Susan wanted so much to believe that it was true, that somewhere inside Talia was still a part of her that was still Talia, and that part kept on to the memory of their love. Despite her hopes though she found could not believe it, she could not allow herself hope again after so many disappointments before.
She could still remember the taunting voice of the monster that inhabited Talia's body as it told her how it had wanted to get close to her. Susan had hoped that there was some small part of Talia left then, but after speaking to her, she knew that Talia was dead. There had been no love, no warmth, and when she looked on Talia yesterday, she saw the same cold creature that she had in Talia's quarters that day.
Perhaps the new personality could not remember what had happened between them, which would explain why Psi-Corp didn't know of her, Susan could only hope that was true. Now she would have to deal with the two telepaths on board, and if they tried to scan her as the telepath on Mars had done, she knew there would be little chance of preventing them from finding out what she had hidden so long. Her mother had always told her to tell no one, but she had told Talia. She had done more that tell her too, she had allowed Talia into her mind.
Angry with herself Susan dragged herself back to the present. In the distance, she could see the Omega destroyer diving through a jump point that had just opened in front of its bow, likely the Proxima jumpgate. Soon the Rasputin would follow and they would be on their way towards the colony and whatever awaited them there. Grabbing her bottle of vodka, she stood up and walked towards the exit.
Outwardly, she was now the calm, strong Captain Ivanova who was afraid of nothing and laughed in the face of danger. Inside, however, she was still in turmoil. Susan didn't know why Talia was here, but she knew that a long as she was she could not forget what had happened between them. Perhaps Psi-Corp was just tormenting her, trying to get back at her for what had happened in the civil war, or maybe it was just coincidence and they knew nothing about her and Talia.
Whatever the reason she was going to have to make the best of the situation and forge on as she had always done so before. The Russian in her expected bad things to happen to her, but even her usual pessimism couldn't stop her hoping for a miracle, hoping that everything she had dreamed about all those times would come true just this once.
As she left the rec room and hurried across the flight deck, a nagging thought came to her, dredged up from the depths of her mind. With shock, she remembered what had happened during the trip through time on Babylon 4, a memory she had dismissed at the time. The visions then she has seen she thought were nothing more than idle fantasy, but perhaps there was some truth to what she had seen after all. In both vision she had seen herself and Talia together, but before she could not believe them, thinking Talia dead. Now though perhaps there was some hope.
She had experienced two visions that day. One came to her as she climbed out of the Whitestar with Marcus, Delenn, and Zathras, and the other just before they stabilised the station. In the first, she had seen herself in a torn Earthforce uniform, holding a bleeding and dying Talia in her arms on a unfamiliar, possibly alien vessel. The second had been happier and she had seen them together on a wide alien beach with purple sands and the light from the world's three moons shining down on them. Then she did not know what either had meant, but now perhaps it meant that there was a chance she could save the old Talia, if she could only let herself hope.
A sudden crash close by broke into her troubled thoughts and Susan spun around looking for any danger that might appear. All that popped up though was a grubby looking Nathan Kozlowski, his normally spotless white coat streaked with black burn marks and patches of grease. "Dr. Kozlowski," she said in annoyance. "What are you doing here?"
The doctor looked guilty for a brief moment, and quickly shoved something he held in his right hand behind his back so she couldn't see it. "Umm, just looking around for something Captain."
Susan looked suspiciously at his hand held behind his back. "I see," she said. "You are not doing anything to the fighters are you?"
The doctor seemed to sigh in relief and then he smiled, "no Captain, I am just picking up some tools I left here last week. I need them back in engineering."
Susan nodded. Had she been less troubled she might have realised that door leading into the armoury was open, but she had other things on her mind. "Very well doctor," she said. "Try not to make too much of a mess."
"I won't Captain," he said as she resumed her walk towards the bridge.
Susan was just about at the end of the flight deck when an idea sprung into her mind. Turning back to the doctor, who was pulling a tool-laden trolley along behind him she asked, "Doctor, you don't know anything about mindwipes do you?"
Dr. Kozlowski looked a little startled at being spoken too again but stumbled out a reply. "Err no, not really. My expertise is primarily confined to engines and ship design. However, I like the think I know a little about everything, so I also know..."
"Ok," Susan cut in. "Forget I mentioned it then." Turning away, she walked out off the flight deck and into the corridor that led to the lift up to the bridge. She could have taken the transporter from the flight deck, but for some reason today she felt like the walk, it would give her time to clear her mind, it that was possible.
"...and of course solar panels as well, but nothing about mindwipes or any other sort of telepathic abilities." Kozlowski finished, having not noticed that Susan was long gone.
When she did not reply he fumbled around for his glasses, which he had taken off moments before the Captain interrupted his expedition to clean. The blur he had thought was the Captain was in fact nothing more than a pile of small boxes. He scratched his head in confusion. "Now where did she get to," he said aloud before shrugging and pulling out his diary. Then with an old style gold pen that he picked up off the trolley he wrote a quick note down in the dairy before putting both it and the pen into one large pocket of his coat and continuing on his way, quite pleased with his morning's work.
The vast red shape of Proxima III loomed close as the Rasputin gently came to a halt in a high orbit above the colony. In the distance, it was possible to see the vast construction site where the planet's new orbital station was taking shape. A swarm of smaller vessels hung around the site like a cloud of bees, either busy carrying workers and equipment from the planet below or involved in the actual construction. Above the construction site were the longer, deadly shapes to two Omega class destroyers, the Vesta and the Odysseus, who were even now being joined by the Apollo.
Years ago the colony had another station, but that had been destroyed in the Earth-Minbari war along with many of Earth's other stations and even some of the outer colonies. The people of Proxima though were a hardy bunch, strengthened by years of living in such a hostile environment, and despite the Minbari attack on the major settlements, they had survived the war relatively intact. Likewise, during the more recent occupation by forces loyal to the now dead President Clark the people of Proxima had survived and fought off the superior firepower of the enemy.
Outgunned and outnumbered the resistance had been forced to flee into the wilderness, surviving off the tiny pockets of water and plant life that were found scattered across the planet, clinging to survival in the harsh landscape. There they were safe from the Earth Alliance troops, who were unfamiliar with the life on the planet and found themselves hopelessly lost in the untamed areas of Proxima III. Eventually instead of tracking down the rebels, Clark's troops had stuck to the two major domes and the mining settlements. Despite their caution though, many died during attacks by the rebels and from attacks by the nastier indigenous life forms that cared little for the war, only their own hunger.
Eventually the planet had been freed from Clark's blockade and with their support gone, the troops on the ground were soon forced to surrender to the few scattered bands of rebels that had hidden out in the wild lands. Surprisingly though when given the choice of independence in a recent referendum the people of Proxima had chosen to remain within the Earth Alliance, albeit with a limited form of self-government instead of under the rule of the Earth appointed governor who had previously controlled the colony.
It was this newly elected leader of the planet, the former rebel commander Jan Mitrovic, that Susan found herself talking to. She had not expected his call, having thought she would instead be asked to meet with the ranking Earthforce commander, Colonel Kroehn who was to be her commanding officer while she was stationed in the Proxima system. Instead, while the other warships gathered in the space above the capital Susan had found herself on the receiving end of a call from the president.
"Captain Ivanova," he was saying. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you. Your broadcasts during the crisis were most inspirational to me and my men."
"I was just doing what had to be done Mr. President," Susan argued, not really wanting the recognition that had come with being one of the three main public faces of the rebellion against Clark. "If it hadn't been me then it would have been someone else."
"But it was you Captain," the President continued. "And the people of Proxima would like to thank you properly."
"That isn't really necessary," Susan tried to explain. "I am just here to fulfil my duty."
President Mitrovic smiled at her attempt to fob off his offer. "Nonsense Captain. What you did for us has never been fully recognised and the people of Proxima, and me personally will not let your efforts be forgotten."
"But..." Susan tried to argue.
The President held up his hand in an effort to prevent any further argument. "Now Captain you wouldn't want to disappoint the people of Proxima would you now?"
Susan sighed, realising that there was no way she was going to get out of what he had planned. "I guess not," she said in a defeated tone.
"Good," President Mitrovic said. "I will expect you down here at eighteen hundred local time." He paused for a minute, "that's around eleven am Earth time, just a few hours from now."
"I will be there," Susan promised, although the tone of her voice did not have any enthusiasm in it.
"Come now Captain," Mitrovic said, trying to cheer her up. "It won't be that bad, just a small welcoming ceremony for the new Earth Alliance troops and yourself. Anyway, you said that you were expecting to meet with the EA commander for this system. He will be at the party... err… I mean ceremony so you will be able to see him there."
Susan didn't miss the president's slip of the tongue. "I will look forward to meeting you then."
"As will I Captain," the President assured her. "Oh and you can bring along some of your command staff if you like. I will also be inviting Captain James and the other destroyer commanders. I will expect to see you in a couple of hours." With that, the transmission ended from the surface, leaving Susan alone in her office.
Sighing again, she rubbed her temples in frustration. She closed her eyes for a moment, but quickly opened them again when the thoughts that hid behind her eyelids were even less pleasant than those that awaited her in the light were. It had not been a good day so far, but at least if she kept herself busy she could stop thinking about Talia for a while. That in mind, she tapped her link.
The voice of Commander Petrov answered from his position on the bridge. "Yes Captain?"
"Can you summon the rest of the command staff and ask them to meet me in my office as soon as possible," she ordered.
"At once Captain," he said, and Susan could almost hear him saluting.
That done she sat back and waited for the command staff to arrive from their duty stations. She wasn't going to force them to come with her, knowing how most officers felt about political functions, at least every military officer she had ever served with. But on the other hand there was no way she was going to this party, or welcoming ceremony as the president insisted on calling it, without at least a few of the crew along with her.
"Is there anyone else who wants to attend," Susan asked after only Alister Schmitt expressed his interest in attending the upcoming celebration on the planet's surface. "I want at least one other. There is no way I am going down there with just Lieutenant-Commander Schmitt as company." She looked at the flight commander, "not that I don't enjoy your company. I just think the Rasputin need a bit more representation. After all, we don't want to be outdone by the other ships do we, and we don't want to offend the President of Proxima on our first day here."
"Well I can't," Petrov said, looking very apologetic. "In your absence I have to stay here and command the Rasputin. Regulations do state that at least one Command level officer should remain on board at all time, and with everyone else either busy or going down to the surface with you I am the only one free to remain on board."
"And I have some important work to do in engineering," Phillip Moore said. "I have to go over the tests that we did while in Hyperspace. If there are any irregularities the tests picked up, then I need to know about them as soon as possible, so I can begin adjustments before the other destroyers depart. "
"That is understandable," Susan agreed with him. She looked at the gunnery officer Vincent Dreyer, "How about you Mr. Dreyer?"
"I would prefer not to Captain," he said in his low, gravelly voice, while trying to look apologetic. "Despite the fact that I don't really like these kind of events, I have a lot of work to do here. Half of my team don't know how to operate these new weapons, and although most can be automated if necessary, I'm sure you will realise that I well trained gunnery crew is essential. I was hoping to run some drills with my staff today. The main gun especially is very different to what most of them are used to. If you are unable to find another officer I will attend, but the drills are very important."
"Damn," Susan said before looking at Petrov. "How about Dr. Taylor Commander?"
He shook his head. "I asked her, but she said she didn't have the time. She seemed most definite about that too."
"I will be happy to go with you Captain," the voice of Major Logan broke into their conversation as she entered the small office.
Susan nodded, pleased that at least one other of her staff was interest, even if she was a little concerned about the Major's real motives for attending. "Good Major, well that is two. That will have to do. It should be enough to make a good impression for the President of Proxima anyway."
She was about to dismiss her staff when the telepath Anderson walked in, closely followed by Talia and for some reason Dr. Kozlowski who was fiddling about with a small hand-held machine as he followed the telepaths. "I think you are forgetting about someone aren't you Captain?" Anderson asked with a smile.
Susan looked at him calmly, while at the same time trying to avoid looking at Talia, an almost impossible task as she stood just behind Anderson. "I can't think of anyone Mr. Anderson."
He shook his head sadly. "I am wounded Captain. We are part of your crew after all, no matter what you think of us."
With a sigh Susan relented, "would you like to attend this little party then Mr. Anderson?"
He thought for a moment and then said, "no thank you. I am far too busy evaluating your crew's performance to attend Captain, but it was nice of you to ask."
Despite a brief flash of irrational anger at the arrogant telepath's words, Susan held her tongue. "I am sorry to hear that Mr. Anderson," she said, her voice carrying more than a hint of sarcasm. "I was so looking forward to your entertaining presence, we will all be reduced by your absence."
"I am so sorry to disappoint you then Captain," Anderson said, a smile on his face. Susan had the feeling though that inside he wasn't smiling, instead looking at the same way a wolf looks at her prey. She was probably paranoid, but she couldn't help but feel Anderson's only reason for being on board was to somehow trap her into revealing her telepathic abilities so he could drag her back to Psi-Corp.
"I would like to go," Talia suddenly cut in, her soft voice barely carrying above the distant hum from the Rasputin's main computers that were housed in a large room just across the corridor from Susan's quarters.
Both Anderson and Susan looked at her. Susan was surprised to hear her speak, while Anderson seemed angrier that she had spoken without his consent. "You would?" Anderson asked her in a guarded tone.
"I am afraid that the invitation was for Mr. Anderson only," Susan said. The last thing she wanted to do was to spend several hours at a social event with Talia. Even looking at the beautiful telepath was enough to make her heart leap into her mouth and her chest tighten, and every time the telepath spoke Susan could feel a delicious chill running through her. She had to keep reminding herself that this was not Talia and nothing she felt for her was ever going to be returned in kind.
"Come now Captain," Anderson said, turning back to her. "My assistant would be perfect to take my place at this little get together on Proxima. That way Psi-Corp can have a representative."
"I would prefer actually members of my command staff," Susan said, a deep frown spreading across her face.
"Despite your feelings Captain my assistant should attend," Anderson said. "After all our presence here is to determine the fitness of the Rasputin's crew and what better place than at a social occasion like this."
Susan sighed, realising that she was unlikely to win this argument without explaining her reasons for refusing Talia's presence. That was something she didn't intend to do anytime soon. "Very well then Mr. Anderson your assistant can attend, as long as she remembers that this is social occasion and not a test of our loyalties."
Anderson smiled and inclined his head in her direction. "Thank you Captain."
"Can I go too?" Kozlowski suddenly said, looking up for the device in his hand for the first time since he entered Susan's crowded office.
Susan threw up her hands in frustration. "Why not."
Kozlowski smiled broadly, "Great. Umm… just one thing though, where are we going exactly?"
Susan looked at him and for a moment seriously considered throttling the scientist, but realised that probably wouldn't look that good in front of most of her command staff. Instead, she turned to her executive officer. "You can explain everything to Dr. Kozlowski Commander. I am going to get ready."
"Yes Captain," he said as she left the room through the back door that led into her quarters.
Talia watched her retreating form with a sad look on her face. The look soon faded though and her face returned to its normal cold, impassive mask as Anderson turned to her and said, "Come along Ms. Winters. There is still plenty of work for us to do this morning."
Inside her quarters, Susan leaned back against the wall and let her face drop down into her hands. She let out a sob of frustration as she realised she had to send the rest of the day with Talia. It was the last thing Susan wanted to do when every time she saw the telepath she was reminded of the woman she had lost. She now had to spend an entire evening with Talia, when it had been her plan to spend as little time as possible with the telepath. Sighing deeply she dragged herself into her bedroom and picked up her dress uniform, which she had just got back from the laundry down on deck five earlier in the morning.
For a moment, her hands wavered towards the bottle of vodka that rested on the small table near her bed before she dismissed that idea. The last thing she wanted to do now was turn up half-drunk to an important political event like this. As always, she would have to put up with the conditions that had been forced on her, and sit through the speeches of gratitude from the Proxima authorities without any form of alcoholic courage.
She realised now why John Sheridan spent so much time of Babylon 5, and had refused the offers of tours of Proxima and the other colonies that had come late last year. He didn't want to go through what she had to now, to endure the endless thanks and gratitude of those who had been rescued from Clark's rule. It was not that she didn't realise how the people of Proxima felt, it was just that she didn't want to be fawned over, especially after the way ISN and the other networks had been following her around lately.
After smoothing out a crease on her dress uniform and laying it back on her bed she unzipped the standard one she was wearing and slowly undressed and dropped it on the floor before walking through the door that led into her bathroom. A shower was just what she needed now, although it would have to quicker than she would have liked as the shuttle to the surface was due to depart in just under twenty minutes.