The Lady of Downbelow
a.k.a. "Not My Babylon Circus, Not My Downbelow Monkeys"
0800hrs January 4, 2257 – Kosh first arrives & poisoned
1520hrs January 4, 2257 – Nova learns of Kosh being poisoned
0113hrs January 5, 2257
Nova was nervous, having never been in this part of the ship, but determined. According to what Daniel and Karianne could find out, the newest ambassador was a Vorlon who had been poisoned. No one could heal the being because they weren't allowed to open his suit. They weren't even certain that it WAS poison, only that it was probably poison based on its affect.
Grimly, she mentally acknowledged that if it had been a human ambassador she wouldn't have bothered. Maybe. Probably. After all, the humans had human doctors that were experts at dealing with human problems…especially if you had enough money to pay them, which any ambassador certainly would. However, the medics on B5 were all human-oriented that she knew of, and this particular patient was certainly NOT a human.
It was a Vorlon.
One of the First Races.
Which meant she felt more than slightly obligated to get involved. So here she was, wearing a TARDIS key (with an enhanced perception filter), making her way to the B5 medbay in Green Sector. She had come when it was still the extremely early dark hours on board when most things were asleep or shut down. She was hoping that she wouldn't run into many personnel on this little jaunt.
She eased into the medical room and only saw a single person on duty, their back to her as they input computer data. The perception filter made it so that while they turned to see what had made the doors open, they dismissed it after only a couple seconds of contemplation. As long as she draw undue attention, her presence would be dismissed.
Nova saw that the Vorlon—or rather, the Vorlon's encounter suit—was in a small isolation room to the right and made her way there. With a quiet rush of displaced air, she was in and through. Her sonic screwdriver activated privacy-mode and the glass turned opaque. Her shoulders relaxed slightly. Now she could work without too much anxiety. (She wasn't as comfortable as her trabritar in just charging forward without worrying about getting caught.)
+Greetings+ She used the first commonly accepted universal language some few hundred thousand years ago. +Are you cognizant?+
(First was a language that was stilted and very formal. Its purpose was to bring together many different species and cultures so that a minimum amount of misunderstandings (and thus wars) would occur.)
She waited several long moments but received no answer. Figuring that was either a 'no, I can't understand you' or 'no, I'm not conscious', she flipped her screwdriver over in her hand and began to scan.
"Damn," she whispered a little later. While there was an onboard computer that controlled the suit, it was not an A.I., thus did nothing to monitor the occupant. She would need to open the suit. Well, that was part of why she was here wasn't it?
+I am lending aid. Please do not fight.+
She waited another few seconds so that hopefully s/he would have enough time to understand, and then activated the controls to open the encounter suit. Bright white light shone immediately, but Nova frowned. It was about 500 lumens too dim…and upon closer inspection, was in fact not the blue-white luminescence she expected, but rather a yellow-white. "Stardust!" she muttered her tabritar's standard curse.
Most of the current era's common poisons didn't affect Vorlons much harsher than the human equivalent of a bad flu. This was worse. "Which means you were targeted," she realized. This was a poison MADE for Vorlons. "Well, that does narrow down the options," she intoned as if to reassure the unconscious being.
"The good news is that I only know of a handful of poisons that would affect you this much," she kept narrating into the silence of the observation room. "Half use the same main ingredient...and you're yellow. So, we'll start there." She took extra care in her sonic selection this time; this was not a mode she used very often and had only included because she had been bored at the time. +I am lending aid. This may injure, but you must be still.+ She repeated herself in the current era's Common and Terran, just in case that this Vorlon didn't know First. Pause. No answer (not that one was expected anymore).
She set what appeared to be a lavender LED end against the Vorlon's skin and activated the screwdriver. The arm jerked slightly before it stilled. "Sorry, sorry!"
(That was also another confirmation that s/he wasn't conscious. Maybe s/he didn't know First—it was a really, really old language and maybe they didn't teach it on the Vorlon homeworld anymore—but as an ambassador, s/he MUST know Common and Terran to be able to communicate with the other ambassadors. Especially MUST know Terran, since Babylon 5 was a Terran station.)
Pulling the screwdriver to her ear to receive the scanned data, she mentally ran almost a dozen calculations…and came up with nothing. "Can't be any of the rulri derivatives then." She looked close at the arm and bit her lip in thought..
Nova tried to remember everything she knew of Vorlon biology as well as what she could do with the supplies she had. "Wish I had access to the medbay, but I don't and you're too big to move even if I did." She grimaced. "But you're yellow. What would cause you to go yellow if it isn't rulruient?
"What if it's pale orange?" came an unexpected deep voice.
She turned with a jump and a squeak.
There was a man facing away from her, barely in the doorway. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. I'm not looking." He wasn't looking because the Vorlons had probably told him it was either forbidden or against their religion or dangerous or something else ridiculous. Or, given what she knew of the species, they might have just demanded he not look and left it at that, expecting obedience. "I'm a doctor. He's my patient. I just want to help."
Nova winced but nodded. Then, realizing he couldn't see, said, "Fine, get over here, but don't open your eyes."
He used his hands to feel where the table in the middle of the room was and stopped there. The door slid shut behind him. "Why can't I look? Doctor-patient confidentiality ensures my silence, even on Babylon 5."
She was quiet for a bit as she tried to think of a way to explain. Finally, she settled on a compromise between the truth and a lie. "It's hard to describe in this language, but the best I can think of is that the Vorlons emit a light spectrum that can induce a strong allergic reaction in other species."
"A visual allergy?" he said doubtfully.
"Ever seen a so-called optical illusion that made you go a little queasy? Visual allergies exist. Vorlons emit a light wave, introduced via the retina, whose frequency makes that feel like a nice Sunday drive…and I don't fancy picking you up off the floor. One annoying patient is enough."
He was silent for a couple seconds. "Fine, I'll keep my eyes closed. How can I help? You said his color was wrong."
Nova gave a small sigh. "Yes. He should be a strong blue-white, but he's more toward yellow and about half the lumens. I tested for presence of rulri but found none. Except that's the only thing I can think of that would turn him yellow." She noticed the gender the doctor had assigned and proceeded to use it. Sex didn't affect poisonings that she knew of. It wasn't like the poison had entered through the genitals. The thought made her pause. "How DID the poison get into his system?"
"Unknown."
"Well, let's find out." She began to run her sonic along the Vorlon's limbs.
"What's that buzzing?"
"My…scanner." Telling the doctor that it was a screwdriver wouldn't validate her expertise at all; no matter that it did LOTS more than assemble cabinets. "Foreign substance all throughout, but… Here! There's a stronger concentration in his hand." She tilted her head in confusion. "Localized density to fingers and palm… Inferior and posterior…" she knew she sounded as baffled as the expression he couldn't see.
They both contemplated that new bit of information for several long seconds.
"Almost sounds like a handshake," the doctor muttered, almost to himself.
"Yeah, that's what I was thinking. A handshake. So… What? The asshole coated his hand in some protective something-or-other, then a layer of poison, and shook the ambassador's hand? That's ridiculous! Not to mention…"
"What?"
Nova shrugged, "Well, it's just…Vorlons don't open their encounter suits very often. Almost never. So why did this Vorlon do so? It can't be the standard reasons—as an ambassador, he would bypass a security check."
Another pause. "Can you get a sample I can analyze?"
"Already on it."
Pause. "I thought you said it was a scanner." He noticed how the chirping-buzz changed when she altered the setting.
"It's multipurpose."
"Anything I might be able to acquire?" If one tool could do many things it was worth the expense. As CMO, he controlled the budget.
"Considering it took me 53 years to become proficient enough for Tabri to stop harping about it, doubtful," she said with a great deal of humor.
"Fifty-three years?"
"I'm older than I look." There was an increase in the buzz. "Hold out your hand." He did so and felt as a petri dish—he'd dealt with enough of them in his training to know one by feel—was set into his palm. "That's the sample." He felt hands on his shoulder and went willingly as he was guided from the room. "Analyze, make an antidote if you can, and I'll administer it. Then we can all go home without getting into trouble."
"On it," he acknowledged. While his analyzer was working, he said, "You know what I'm wondering?"
"What?" The door was still open, but she was in the isolation room out of sight.
"Who did he THINK he was shaking hands with that would make him want to open his suit?"
"That…is a very good question." It also brought to the fore that whoever this Vorlon thought he was shaking hands with obviously wasn't who he was actually shaking hands. "Your assassin disguised themselves to look like someone else." She stated the obvious, but someone had to say it. "Someone that the Vorlon ambassador would trust implicitly."
"The ambassador JUST arrived. Who would he—could he—trust that well?"
Nova shook her head, just as baffled. What they had reasoned through made logical sense, and yet didn't. "I have absolutely no idea." Vorlons as a species didn't trust anyone very easily. (It was hard to trust anyone you considered inferior; which with very few exceptions Vorlons considered everyone else part of the 'lesser' or 'young' races). "In this era, the Vorlons are probably closest to the Minbari…but that doesn't necessarily mean anything."
They each contemplated possibilities until his analyzer stopped whirring. He read the results aloud to be heard through the doorway, "Cerluni makes up 72% of the substance, nariene 12%, bulotreine 7%—"
Her voice cut him off. "Did you say cerluni?"
"Yes, why? It's a binding agent."
"No…well, yes, it's a binding agent for humans, but for Vorlons, it's right adjacent to rulri on their equivalent periodic table. Not quite rulri, which turns them yellow, but not quite juldi, which can turn them red, but in between."
"Near enough to this 'rulri' to poison him?" he interrupted her train of thought.
"Yes, it very well could," she paused, remembering how he had entered the room, "and turned him a pale orange. You were right."
"So were you," he assured. "I'll get on synthesizing an antidote. Unless you…?"
"It's all you, doctor."
+++B5+++
09.19.2021
Not long after, she was smiling, "He's looking better." She activated the mechanism to close the suit. "He's increased 21 lumens already and is on his way to a nice orange-white. He'll be red for probably about an hour or so, then lighten to blue. I'd estimate he'll be back up and all judgmental in around 2.3 hours. Very nice job, doctor."
"I never did introduce myself, did I? Dr. Benjamin Kyle." He turned in the swivel chair, his eyes closed as he came fully forward. He didn't know her species or occupation, but he did know that she knew more about Vorlon biology than he, the xenobiologist, did, and had a feeling that she was breaking a few rules to be here.
Ben was a firm believer in doctor-patient confidentiality, but whoever this woman was, she was not his patient. However, she had helped his patient and he didn't want to hinder her in any way. In fact… "Is there a way to contact you? If he takes a turn for the worse?" he added the last when she didn't immediately agree.
"Not easily," she sighed. "I only heard about him because one of my littles likes to eavesdrop." Ben frowned at that, now seriously wondering who was in his medbay if she hadn't been sent by the embassy or the Vorlon home council. An unaffiliated passerby who happened to overhear information and came to investigate? Unlikely! "Who—"
"Lady!" a small voice cut him off. "Light hours are about to start. We need to go."
Ben frowned harder. He couldn't tell by the cadence the species, gender, or age of the speaker. The voice was very androgenous. He turned to look but didn't see more than a hand grasping the doorframe, holding the doors open. The dark hand was just as androgenous as the speaker.
"Yes, yes. Here," the woman's voice was closer. "Eyes closed." He obeyed rather reluctantly. He felt a small circular metal something pressed into his hand.
"Lady!" the voice was more urgent. "Someone's coming!"
"Push the button if you need me. I'll come if I can."
"On behalf of my patient, thank you." He paused. "But…who are you?"
The door slid shut. He never heard her reply.
Instead, less than a minute later, the newly assigned Psi Corps operative walked in. Lyta Alexander gave him a small smile of greeting. "Dr. Benjamin Kyle? Takashima said you wanted to speak with me?"
Ben grimaced. Given what he now knew, or rather DIDN'T know about this 'Lady', perhaps he should get another opinion. For confirmation.
09.17.2021
2200hrs January 8, 2257
Garibaldi, Head of Security for the diplomatic station Babylon 5, was developing a rather large headache. He was also sincerely hoping this wasn't a preview of how interacting with Vorlons would make his life. It had been a REALLY long 'day' that had lasted approximately fifty-two hours.
"Let me see if I have this right," he didn't look up to those gathered in his office—if he looked at them, his headache would get worse, he just knew it. "Ambassador Kosh Naranek arrives two days early, is greeted by an unknown assassin impersonating the captain by wearing a changling net, an illegal item that somehow got passed your asses. The Vorlon is poisoned and promptly collapses. He is taken to the infirmary where the Advisory Council tells anyone who stops long enough to listen that we can't take his suit off. Dr. Benjamin Kyle does his best with what he can without going against the Council, which is only about as much as figuring out it IS a poison."
He hears someone make a noise as if they want to butt in on his summary, but he holds up a finger. "Ooh, I'm not done.
"While all this is going on, rumors are flying around about what this means for the station and get so far as to alert a heretofore unknown busybody-slash-miracle worker to magically appear in the medbay to ascertain what she can do for the ambassador. No one sees how she got in and no one knows what she looks like. This 'Lady' disappears as quickly as she appeared, with only a button and a healed Vorlon to show for it. She has at least one accomplice that we know of who played lookout, but we have no clue of even things as simple as gender or age—we only have a description of..." He picked up a piece of paper and read, "quote 'the hand was a darker shade, about average in size,' end quote, which could mean anything from a human to a minbari to a centauri or, hell, even a narn!
"So, to sum up… We don't know her name. We don't know how she got here. We don't know how she gets around. We don't know who she's associated with. We don't know what she knows, OR how she knows them. We don't even know her SPECIES…!" Garibaldi finally looked up at those present and did his best not to growl. Professional. He was professional. "Is that about right?"
They didn't answer verbally, instead barely nodding once.
"Fine," his tone was short and not a growl. "What DO we know about this woman?"
"She's female…?" one offered.
"…and nobility," said another.
Michael Garibaldi closed his eyes again. "Lady can be a noble title. It can also be a title of endearment. Or a cultural affectation that has nothing to do with land ownership. We have over a dozen species and cultures on this bucket of bolts. MOST of them have 'Lady' in there somewhere."
"Or it could be an alias," Takashima said almost conversationally.
Garibaldi finally gave into the urge and groaned, loud and long. "So, we know nothing. Someone was able to get into a supposedly secure area and get out again without anyone seeing anything and we know nothing. Jesus-fucking-Christ."
No one spoke.
He stood up and glared at them all. "This is a diplomatic vessel, and we have to keep the peace between twenty-eight different species. If we can't guarantee the ambassadors' safety, then how are we going to keep things calm in the Zocalo? Or in Downbelow?
"That changeling net should never have gotten passed the initial screening. And NO ONE should be able to walk down a corridor without being caught on camera, let alone one of the main areas!"
The Head of Security eyed those gathered, most trying valiantly not to fidget or squirm. "You were all the ones on duty when these breaches of security took place. As such, you are all suspended, without pay, until I can personally evaluate your competency to BE security personnel on this ship." He waited, then barked, "Dismissed, damnit!"
They scattered, leaving only the first officer, Lieutenant Colonel Laurel Takashima. She watched him for a couple seconds before adding her own two cents worth, "It could be worse."
"How? How could it possibly be worse?"
"She could've used the infirmary computers to plant a virus that shuts down all life support systems."
Michael glared. He punched the intercom hard enough that part of his brain (the non-angry part) wondered if he'd have to replace it. "Get me I.T. NOW!"
09.20.2021
January 2257 – Garibaldi tries to use button to trap Nova, doesn't work ; he tries several times over several months to use button Nova gave Dr. Kyle to trap & interrogate her, never works ; he gives up & gives button back to Dr. Kyle
+++++DW+B5+DW+++++
Awesome betaing skills go to denise3, BarbedCaress, emptyvoices, and Random_human1511! Not all of them know B5, but all were willing to take a peek and offer their opinions. Thanks bunches guys!
Please let me know what you think! I know its not perfect, but I've done my best. Reviews are love and remind me to keep writing!