A/N: Many thanks to CzarZelinsky, Guest, and Almadynis Rayne for your reviews! I'm so happy you're enjoying this! This chapter is three weeks late, so let's go on with it! More notes at the end.
Chapter 4: The Players, Part II
Sinclair watched the screen, unperturbed by Garibaldi's pacing behind his back. Doctor Franklin had asked them to leave the cell so he could examine the supposed alien, without them breathing down their necks, as he said. So they'd moved back to Garibaldi's office in order to monitor them. Their prisoner was sitting on the table, buttoning his shirt up after a brief physical examination. Franklin stood at his side, apparently using some medical scanner, and talking. Probably asking questions, happily answered by the other. "They look very friendly," he commented.
"Franklin is always friendly," his chief security officer snorted. "And if he's really a new alien?"
"Then we release him," the commander said. He'd already accepted that it was most likely true, after what happened with Kosh.
"He did bypass security to enter the station," Garibaldi complained.
"You may question him again on that. But the worst we can do is kick him out of the station, and I don't want to do that. He hasn't been hostile so far. I don't want to risk this changing." Not with someone who'd rattled the Vorlon ambassador that badly. "Did you find anything that could explain how he got into the station?"
"Nothing," was the frustrated reply. "We did a full visual inspection, the hull's clean. I've also checked all the tapes. I've ran out of things to check," Garibaldi huffed. "Unless he's lying and he got help from the inside to smuggle him past security, the only explanation I can give you is magic."
"And his ship?" The Doctor had claimed he didn't know about the station's security, and that he just did what he always did, he materialized aboard the station. He could be telling the truth and belong to an extremely advanced civilization equipped with fantastical technology, but Sinclair wasn't ready to believe that yet. The alien looked entirely too normal to him. Except for that moment just before Kosh entered the cell, he recalled with a shiver.
"No trace of an unidentified ship anywhere in the sector. And yes, we've also checked the hyperspace near the beacon. Maybe they dropped him here somehow before moving away."
"He said he'd leave if we let him go. Maybe you could tail him and see how he does it," Sinclair grinned, half-seriously. He didn't doubt that was exactly his head of security's intention.
"We'll see," the other grumped.
After a few more minutes when all they could see Franklin and their prisoner doing was talk, Sinclair decided it was enough. Whatever exams his CMO wanted to do must better be completed by now, he thought. They entered the cell and listened to the tail end of one of Franklin's hitchhiking adventures before the Minbari war, followed by an excited comment from their prisoner, asking for some details.
"Do you have an answer for me, Doctor?" Sinclair interrupted. Both of them turned to look at him, before looking back at each other and grinning. He frowned, and Franklin noticed it.
"It's all right, Commander, we've just been talking."
"And?"
"The Doctor here is definitely not human," Franklin said.
"And what is he?" Garibaldi stepped in.
"Gallifreyan!" The Doctor interjected brightly, jumping from the table before taking his jacket and putting it up. "What are your procedures for first contact?"
Sinclair quirked an eyebrow, "I thought you were leaving."
"Well," he intoned, lenghtening the vowel, "I can leave, if you want. But I've changed my mind! I'd like to stay for a while, if you don't mind!"
Later, Sinclair was sitting in his office going through paperwork when his first officer, Lieutenant Commander Susan Ivanova, came in.
"So, who's that guy who's kept you busy the whole morning?" she asked, while showing him the reports he'd asked to see.
"A new human-like species, would you believe that?"
She snorted. "As if we needed another one after the Centauri."
"He seems very friendly, and even apologized for having bypassed the checkpoints."
"And I went to all that trouble to do the sweeps Garibaldi had asked me for. Did he explain how he did it?"
"Not really," Sinclair said. "In fact he didn't say much about his people or his technology. Only that he needed to talk to them and he'd get back to me with a formal proposal later. He apparently holds the rank of Ambassador already, but he was just passing through."
"Really," she replied in a flat tone. "A friendly ambassador, and stopped here by accident. At least it's original."
He grinned. "And his people aren't even from this galaxy, or so he'd like us to believe."
She laughed. "Well, then he'll fit right in with everyone else! Where is he right now?"
"He refused our offer of an escort, said he had things to do and people to see before leaving. But Garibaldi has probably ordered him tailed. Not that it'll last long, I'd wager."
Garibaldi watched his screens, following the progress of his ex-prisoner through the stalls of the Zocalo. The alien had first stopped at one of the exchange booths, where he got a sizable amount of credits in exchange for a small bag of gems and a thin bar of platinum, things that had also been missed in his pat-down. He wondered how the guy did it. With his new credit chit and some change in his pocket, the guy began systematically checking stall after stall, every now and then buying something.
Garibaldi reread the list of things bought by the 'Doctor', but there was no rhyme or reason to them. Some were replacement parts for various devices, or batteries, while others were just trinkets destined for tourists. He looked back at his screens. The alien was now meandering about, stopping again at a couple of stalls, apparently to buy something he forgot the first time around, all the while followed not too discreetly by two of Garibaldi's officers. He was ready to justify it as extra security due to a new diplomatic visitor, if asked, though Sinclair had been careful to avoid inquiring about that earlier.
He reclined in his chair. The alien's Zocalo excursion had already lasted over three hours, and Garibaldi was aware he'd be forced to suspend the surveillance soon. Security had been stretched for months. The dismantling of that racist anti-alien group had eased things somewhat, but there was still unease among the non-human residents, and a number of incidents with smugglers and lurkers hadn't helped things. He was no longer certain why the Doctor's presence bothered him. There were plenty of shady individuals to worry about. Besides, they'd seemingly reached an understanding earlier, the Doctor being apologetic enough for having offended his sense of duty, though he wasn't about to explain how he managed it.
An alert directed him to some sort of disturbance in one of the screens. A loud discussion broke out between a group of customers and some sellers, near where the Doctor was, and his officers moved in to mediate. He watched it worriedly, before a movement in another screen attracted his attention. He briefly saw the Doctor waving to the camera before ducking into an alleyway. He quickly switched to the next camera, but the alien failed to appear in it. He cursed. The Doctor had managed to evade his surveillance. He sighed, then grinned. If the other wanted to play, then they'd play.
The Doctor ducked into an unoccupied alcove, on the opposite side and in another level from where he left the officers, and frowned towards a pair of surly guys who seemed intent on challenging him for the space. They quickly moved away. He'd been expecting the opportunity for nearly an hour; some sort of disturbance was always bound to happen somewhere, especially in such a busy thoroughfare. It was just a question of time and careful monitoring. He hadn't been disappointed, and the judicious use of his perception filter would ensure he wouldn't be found before he wanted to.
He emptied his large bag on the floor, spread it and sat upon it, to avoid dirtying his clothes in the dust. He began picking through the trinkets, disassembling some and separating the parts he'd need while piling up the rest aside. Skillful application of his sonic screwdriver meant he soon had a usable detector for the specific emissions he wanted to monitor. Unfortunately he hadn't found the right parts for a telepathic interface, so a tactile one would have to suffice. He finished adjusting the small device and fixed it into a plastic egg he'd bought for the purpose. Then he pushed most of the discarded pieces into a garbage bag, after pocketing the few remaining usable parts.
The Doctor stood and waved the egg up and down and in a circle around him, noting the vibrations and trying to narrow down the likely position of the next interested party. After meeting the Vorlon, he'd been certain that if their adversaries had some sort of presence in the station, they'd be looking for him too. He'd been able to perceive the approach of the Vorlon through his telepathic presence, but the other side was trickier. And he needed some advance warning. He had an image to present.
He pushed his left hand inside his pocket, still holding the egg, and left the alcove, moving towards the nearest exit. He avoided the more populated corridors, until he was in the Brown Sector and the egg was vibrating consistently, pointing to the nearby presence of his quarry. They probably had a reasonable idea of where his TARDIS was hidden, though he doubted they were able to detect it directly. Then he turned off his perception filter and began ambling towards their approximate position.
After a few minutes, the egg trilled softly in his pocket and he smiled. They were close.
Morden shivered. He didn't like Brown Sector. It was dark and cold, and smelled musty. He felt uncomfortable, though that was an irrational reaction. He had nothing to fear, not with his associates at his side. The lowlifes that lived in these corridors wouldn't come near him, not when their instincts were screaming to them to scamper as far away as they could.
His associates were being tight-lipped. That wasn't unusual. But the setting was. Who were they interested in that'd be found in such a place? They had other middlemen to deal with such needs. He'd been chosen to be their own ambassador among others, to represent their interests with the ones that must be nudged, not pushed, in the right directions. But after wandering a couple of hours without finding whoever or whatever they were looking for, Morden was now in a barely adequate small room, waiting for a signal from his associates. He'd pushed a crate into position and was sitting on it when one of his associates skittered closer and ordered him to follow.
Nearby, a man wandered along the corridor, whistling a tune.
"Greetings, sir," Morden said. "My name is Morden. Would you mind coming with me? We need to talk."
"Do we?" The man asked, quirking an eyebrow and glancing towards the associate at Morden's right side. Morden noticed and became nervous. "Very well, lead the way."
As soon as they were inside the room, the man asked, "What do you want?"
"That's what I wanted to ask you, what do you want?" Morden smiled, trying to hide his nervousness.
"I see," the man said, and his face closed off. "Your friends can stop the disappearing act now," he told Morden in an imperious tone. And the Shadows obeyed, uncloaking and gesturing towards the man.
*Lord of Time, we welcome your presence,* one said, talking in their clicking/buzzing language and moving its limbs in fake reverence, while Morden watched, stupefied.
*The situation is unprecedented,* the other Shadow added.
*It must not be allowed to continue,* the first concluded.
"And what do you know about it?" The apparent 'Lord of Time' demanded, tall and frowning.
*Your Rules were broken,* the first Shadow clicked.
*Forbidden means were used,* the other buzzed.
"That's what I'm here to investigate," the mysterious Being declared, while Morden shuddered.
*Your Compact was violated. This must not be allowed to rest,* the first Shadow asserted.
"You should let me be the judge of that," the Lord of Time replied severely.
*We can act, if you'd rather not,* the second said, as an offer, or perhaps a veiled threat.
"Don't you dare. Would you like to share their fate? If the situation escalates, there will be no mercy."
The Shadows hesitated. *What do you intend to do?* One of them asked.
"You must not interfere," the Lord of Time commanded. "You'll know when I act," he said, then turned and left the room, while the Shadows stilled, still visible.
Morden was deeply disturbed. He'd never seen his associates treat anyone with that kind of deference. Did they fear this Being? Who was him? Wrong question, he realized too late, as a brief white-hot flash of pain seared behind his eyes. He staggered, but the Shadows were buzzing to each other, ignoring him.
"What was he talking about?" He dared ask, after a minute.
*He won't, must not, interfere with our plans,* one of them replied, clicking its forward feet nervously at the floor.
*This one is not as we expected,* the other rattled, stepping around. *He must be monitored.*
*It can't be. He'd know. We must not risk their anger,* the first buzzed shrilly.
*The others are guilty, not us. The conclusion is near, and they are desperate! We must ensure he arrives at the correct decision.*
*What can we do?* The first despaired. *He refused our collaboration.*
*We know what motivates them,* the second rasped. *If he oversteps his bounds, he'll be alone and we can destroy him!*
*They're not like us,* the first wailed. *They're not bound by our Rules. The old Compact is clear. They can do whatever they want.*
*We will watch,* the second clicked angrily. *We will manifest our Truth. If necessary, we will test him, and then we will act!*
A/N: Okay, now I know where I'm going with this. Essentially, I'm throwing a Doctor-shaped curveball at the whole situation in B5, and while things won't change much in the beginning, I'd expect the other interested parties to grow increasingly concerned as time goes on. So far, we're somewhere around the middle of the first season, and the only thing that's changed is the Doctor's presence. However, it won't last. The Doctor has already begun affecting the people he meets, and there will be consequences for everyone.
One thing, this Doctor will be close enough to DW canon, unlike I said before. So I've edited the 1st chapter notes, to confirm this is really Ten. An alternate Ten. His story won't be exactly the same (there are no Daleks, and Gallifrey is still there).
Almadynis Rayne, you asked about UNIT. It might be still there in the 70s (or 80s?), or it might not, I'm not sure yet. Anyway, no records survived until the 23rd century, and the Earth Alliance has no clue about the Doctor. His history with UNIT would certainly be very different. No Torchwood, either. Remember, the closest surviving alien civilization to Earth are the Centauri, and they only contacted humanity in 2156. This galaxy's inhabitants are very different from the ones in the DW universe.
B5 has a marvelous intrincated storyline, and kudos to JMS, it's one of the best SF shows I've ever watched. And it's very hard to make a crossover, or alternate plotline, of it. I fully intend to be respectful of the original, in the sense that I'll generally follow most events in the same order. Also, I don't want the Doctor to magically solve anything (instead he'll probably complicate things even further), and I intend to be faithful at least in part the complexity of the original. But somewhere around middle-point, the divergences will become more apparent. Since we'll be focusing on the Doctor, all the other things from the show will be going on in the background, and will at most receive a mention. You may generally assume I'll warn you if there's any noticeable changes in them. Please ask, if you have any doubts.
We'll have one more chapter dealing with the Doctor meeting other people and finally getting established on B5. After that, I have a fair idea for an ending, and of the path to get there, though things may change. It'll probably be slow-going, but I'll eventually get to the end. Faster if I receive feedback that gets me more involved with telling the story *hint* *grin*.
