Chapter 2: Meta-metamorphosis

"Meta: A prefix meaning one level of description higher. If X is some concept then meta-X is data about, or processes operating on, X."

The Jargon File, (1999-04-06)

"Electricity is the power that causes all natural phenomena not known to be caused by something else."

--Ambrose Bierce

-~-~-~-~-~

"Personal log, computer insert autodate. Yep, weird shit happening around here, for a nice change of pace. I just recorded a letter to Dad, but couldn't talk about anything that's really been happening lately. I mean, Babylon 4 reappearing? That got classified faster than a Pak'ma'ra could clean out my fridge. That reminds me, better eat out again tonight. Anyhow, Dad probably thinks I've got the boringest job in the Earthforce, but personally, I think it beats training a bunch of pilots how to go kill or get killed."

Miller put her feet up on the com console, as was her habit. "Sheesh, you guys stink!" she addressed her feet. "I think I can actually see little stink waves coming up from you! Umm, computer, delete last two sentences and continue entry."

"I just finished the post-mortem on the Starfury that the pilot who returned from Sector 14 came home in. Hmm, better not call it a post-mortem in front of Stephen. Let's say, 'engineering failure analysis' instead. We don't usually go over ships with such a fine-toothed comb, unless there seems to be an actual equipment failure. But, once Stephen told Sinclair that the pilot apparently died of old age, I requested the time to do a thorough going-over of the ship. After all, when do you get to see the combined effects of 100 years of entropy on a brand-new ship?"

"So, at first it didn't really look like anything had happened – I mean, usually in a really old ship, you would see dust, corrosion, visible wear on moving parts, and all that good stuff. But the only things that I found that indicated any aging were really subtle. For instance, the plastics used in some of the control panel components had gotten brittle. Not the way they would from continuous UV exposure, but differently – I can't explain how. Also, the lubricants in some of the heavier moving parts had broken down in strange ways. They hadn't oxidized, like they would with continuous exposure to atmosphere, but, well, they were just 'off.' And that's pretty much the pattern – everything showed signs of aging that didn't have anything to do with weathering or mechanical overuse, but instead isolated signs of entropy. That's really the only way to describe the changes. If this whole incident weren't classified tighter than a Vorlon's encounter suit, I could get a great paper out of it. But, there you go. If I'd wanted to get a lot of publications, I should've listened to Mom and gone into academia instead of Earthforce."

"Welp, that's all for tonight. Computer, encrypt this entry, password m-1-n-d y-0-u-r 0-w-n b-u-s-1-n-e-s-s, save and close log."

Miller removed her uniform jacket, shook it mightily, then picked off a few tenaciously sticky bits. She removed the insignia, and hung the jacket in the clothing refresher unit. She added the entire pile on the floor to the basket in the unit, threw her uniform trousers in on top, and closed the unit. She was rewarded with an immediate message: "Unit basket overloaded. Please remove 500 grams and restart."

"Override and restart," sighed Miller.

"Warning: for best results, correct overload. An overloaded unit may not remove all deposits and odors. Confirm override?"

"Confirmed," Miller replied. "Fussbudget," she added sotto voce.

The unit responded by respectfully beginning its cleaning cycle. Miller put on her reasonably clean slacks, decided against the Rebo and Zooty T-shirt in the top of the drawer, and instead chose a plain grey jersey. She put on her favorite sneakers and left her quarters, heading to the Zocalo food court for a quick meal.

Miller stopped at her favorite Human take-out cafe, not in the mood for anything exotic, and looked at the menu board. "Junk, or salad? Junk, or salad?" she posed her frequent question. She watched as the slim, athletic-looking woman in front of her in line picked up a salad and went to join her ridiculously handsome male companion. "Okay, salad it is." She picked up her salad, and sat at the one empty table in the area. As soon as she settled onto the stool, her combadge bleeped. "Ah, the good old 'butt-hits-chair alarm.' Miller, go."

"C&C here, ma'am. We've been getting reports for the last hour of brownouts in Quadrant 1 of the Green Sector. We sent the usual maintenance team in, but they said there's nothing they can do. Lt. Commander Ivanova authorized me to call you," replied the tech, sounding nervous that Miller might respond poorly.

"What did they do so far?" Miller asked – maybe the maintenance crew missed something, and she could just send them back again.

"They said to tell you that they checked the generator's readout panel, and that apparently more power is being drawn from the generator than the total of what all the circuits can handle. But, none of the circuit breakers have tripped in the last six weeks."

"Hmph, that's... weird," Miller said around a mouthful of salad. "Did they run a diagnostic on the generator?"

The Command and Control communications officer paused, likely conferring with the repair crew. "Yes ma'am, and everything checked out."

"Okay," Miller responded. "Can I finish my dinner? I'll be much more pleasant if I can have ten minutes."

"Affirmative; Lt. Cmdr. Ivanova said to go when you can. We can hold off the ambassadorial staff for a while."

"Roger that. Tell the maintenance crew I'll see them at the generator in ten minutes."

"Aye, ma'am. C&C out."

Miller chewed her salad thoughtfully. "Could still be the generator; that diagnostic only looks for normal problems. And we don't seem to get a lot of those around here." She picked a thin ring of onion out of the salad and apologized to it. "Sorry, dear, you'll make me offend people. Can I have a rain-check, till the next salad?" Not getting a response from the onion, she continued her train of thought. "They'd've told me if there'd been any trouble reports from outside of Quadrant 1, but I still oughta rule that out anyhow. Don't wanna mess around with the local generator if it's not a local problem." She continued munching on her salad, talking to herself and shaking her head occasionally.

Someone suddenly appeared across from Miller. "Hey, Sharon, mind if I join you?" It was Stephen Franklin. Though they existed in vastly different circles in the station, Miller and Franklin had been friends since they served together briefly just before the Earth-Minbari war. They had bonded quickly, realizing that while neither of them was really the military type, they both came from career-military families, and had ended up in the "family business." Miller had been happy to see him get assigned as Benjamin Kyle's replacement, though she did wonder why Kyle had left so quickly.

"Sure, though I'm just on my way out. I'm on call tonight, and – that's right, you guessed it – I got called! I'll bet that never happens to you medical folks, now, does it?" Miller said cheerfully, always enjoying noticing that someone else's lot in life might be more annoying than hers.

Franklin harrumphed. "Only every time I'm on call, is all. I don't even bother leaving Medlab anymore. I just line up my, um, coffee mugs, and wait for the patients to start showing up." Franklin twirled some spaghetti around his fork. "So what's up tonight? Are they breaking things Up Front again?"

Miller finished her bite, and replied, "Actually, it's a bit of a stumper. Brown-outs in the Green Sector. Theoretically, that shouldn't be possible."

"How come? What if everyone's just using a lot of juice tonight? You know, the Centauri might all be doing their hair at the same time. All those flattening irons going at once could really pull some amps, huh?" joked Franklin, miming the action of pressing his hair into a large Centauri-style crest. He could tell Miller was deep in thought, since she would normally laugh out loud at any joke at the expense of someone else's hairstyle.

"OK, you asked, but you get the short story, since I now have exactly two minutes left." She picked a quarter of a hard-boiled egg out of her salad. "All right, this egg is a quadrant of a residential sector. Each quadrant has its own cold-fusion generator – this olive, here – that supplies power to run everything in the quarters from the lights, to the appliances, to anything plugged into the wall outlets. Each set of quarters has one or more circuit breakers, which will automatically trip if too much current is being pulled. The generator will try to figure out what happened, and will reset the circuit breaker automatically if there's no reason to suspect a malfunction or a safety problem. There's plenty of amps allowed to each room – in fact, we've never had to upgrade, even with all the, hmm, very particular parties we have on the station." Miller proceeded to break and straighten out the recently-discarded piece of onion and lay it next to the egg. "Now this onion is the plasma line from the station's main fusion core." She paused, eying Franklin's spaghetti and meatballs. "Say, can you spare a meatball?"

Franklin passed her a meatball, looking at her diagram dubiously. Miller set it down below the egg.

"Wait wait, don't tell me, the meatball is the fusion core," predicted Franklin.

"Bingo! The plasma line goes all the way through the station, but doesn't supply the living quarters. It's only used for systems that can run straight off the plasma – weapons, defense shields, rotating the station, et cetera. All those functions use way too much juice to be powered off cold fusion generators. So," said Miller, picking up the meatball and popping it in her mouth, "the meatball is irrelevant to this discussion."

Franklin rolled his eyes at her, and wound up some more spaghetti. "Okay, so why can't there be brownouts?"

"Well, the cold-fusion generators can all produce way more power than the total that could be drawn through all the circuits in the quadrant. The only way there could be a brownout would be if there were something wrong with the generator, or if somehow, more power were being drawn than the circuits should allow." She looked off into the distance for a moment. "Hmm, probably worth checking whose quarters are in that quadrant. You never know who's going to try to diddle with things. And I really hate it when people do that." Miller ate her diagram, minus the plasma onion, and cleaned up her area of the table. "Whoops, gotta go. No fair making the maintenance crew wait. Enjoy your spaghetti; see ya later."

"See you, Sharon. And, you let me know what ended up being the problem with the olive and the egg, okay? You got me all curious." Franklin watched her depart.

-~-~-~-~-~

Miller made her way from the Zocalo food court to Quadrant 1 of the Green Sector. As she walked, she asked C&C for a list of all the residents of the quadrant, along with the species of the occupants. She read through the list on her palm-sized datapad. "Oooh, Centauri and Minbari! My, my, isn't this my lucky day!" She called C&C one last time, to ask them to please inform all the residents of the quadrant that she was on her way to start repairs. To her surprise, C&C reported a new wrinkle in the situation.

"Chief, the Minbari ambassador's aide, Mr. Lennier, has become very concerned about the brownouts. He says that Ambassador Delenn's quarters must, his emphasis, have continuity of electrical service."

Miller frowned at this. "Okay, ask him what she's using in there that is critical. Let him know we can always put the equipment on a portable power supply and move it to a different quadrant temporarily. Tell him I'll check in with him personally before I do anything rash. No, wait, don't say 'rash,' say... oh hell, you're the communication specialist, you can think of something. Miller out." Miller reached the service panel of the generator for the quadrant, and greeted the techs. "Hey Abbott, hey Chen, we better get this sorted out; the ambassadors are starting to complain." They chuckled, knowing how she disliked dealing with "persons of status."

"Okay, the diagnostic shows nothing, and the breakers aren't tripped. Here's what I figure to try first – let's just reboot the damned thing and see if that fixes it. It'll only take a few minutes, and if it works, well, I'm willing to call it fixed." Chen and Abbot nodded in agreement. "Okay, I'll have the Comm officer page everyone and let them know we're going to shut down for a couple minutes. Whaddaya think, is fifteen minutes fair warning?" Miller frowned. "Hmm, the Minbari ambassador's aide said they had something critical running in her quarters. I'll check that out, while you guys stand by for replies from C&C. Don't reboot till I give the word, okay?"

Miller commed Lennier's quarters. No answer. She took a deep breath, and commed Ambassador Delenn's quarters. A somewhat androgynous voice answered, "Ambassador Delenn's quarters, this is Lennier, how may I help you?"

Miller put on her very best formal voice, and replied, "Good evening, Mr. Lennier. This is Lt. Cmdr. Sharon Miller, Chief Engineer of the station. I understand the ambassador has some important equipment that needs to be powered continuously, correct?"

There was a moment of silence before Lennier answered. "Not... exactly. It would be more accurate to say that the ambassador's quarters currently require uninterrupted electrical service, at all costs." Polite, but obfuscatory, Miller thought, the quintessential Minbari.

"Mister Lennier, let me explain. In order to try to fix the brownouts this quadrant has been experiencing, I am going to need to reboot the power generator, which will interrupt the power supply to the ambassador's quarters. I am more than happy to send someone to move any essential equipment, but I will need to shut down the power in about ten minutes. The total time out of service should be less than five – "

Lennier cut her off hastily. "No! Chief Miller, we must have continuous power! It is quite urgent that there be no interruptions whatsoever. In fact, it may well be a matter of life and death."

Miller frowned sternly at her combadge, as if Lennier could see her expression. Minbari were not prone to hyperbole, last time she checked. "Mister Lennier, may I request a brief meeting with you or the ambassador? I am on your level of Green Sector now, and I think we should discuss this in person." At the very least, she thought, I might get in to see what's going on in there.

Another pause. "Very well. I will see you in my quarters immediately. Lennier out."

Miller let out the breath she had been holding. "Whew. Okay, Sharon, I think he just hung up on you. Now what could possibly be going on in there," she wondered aloud. She was starting to think that Lennier's frantic – for a Minbari, that is – insistence on power might have something to do with the Mystery of the Brownouts. She reached Lennier's quarters, and rang the bell. Instantly, the door swooshed open, and she was greeted by a robed, slightly-built Minbari.

"Chief Miller, please come in and take a seat," said Lennier, gesturing towards the spartan living area. Miller followed his gesture, and had a seat on a low chair.

"Okay, Mr. Lennier, let's get straight to the point. I don't mean to be rude, but I do need to fix this problem. It's affecting the entire quadrant – that's one-quarter of the living areas on eight levels of Green Sector. If I am going to be able to help with whatever your ambassador's needs are, I will need to know the specifics. Please pardon my directness, but what exactly does she need uninterrupted power for, that is so sensitive that it can't be moved?" As if the station were listening, the lights in Lennier's quarters dimmed ominously, and slowly came back up to full brightness again. Wow, thought Miller, I didn't think he could get any paler.

Lennier looked down at the floor. "It is... personal."

Okay, now we're getting somewhere. Right. "Would it be better for me to speak to Ambassador Delenn?"

Again, the floor seemed of great interest. "She is... indisposed, and cannot be disturbed."

"Okay, so it's a medical thing. Fine. Can you have her go to Medlab? That would be safer if she is really ill, since I don't know whether the power will go out or not. I could call Dr. Franklin, and – "

"No!" Lennier was on his feet. He continued, in a more toned-down voice. "Chief Miller, this is an extremely delicate situation, and I must insist that you respect the ambassador's need for both privacy and uninterrupted electrical service. You will need to find a way to fix the problem without shutting down the generator."

"Mister Lennier!" Miller rose to her feet as well. "You and the ambassador are not the only ones affected by this situation. Unless you can explain the situation to my satisfaction, I need to use the approach that will fix the problem safely and quickly. That's my job – please let me do it!"

Lennier's hands were clenched in a knot in front of his chest. His eyes were wide, and his head tilted slightly to one side. "My first obligation is to serve Ambassador Delenn. If I allow you to –"

Miller interrupted him. "There's no question of 'allowing,' Mister Lennier. I have the authority to shut down the power to this quadrant to make the necessary repairs. I also have the authority to do a safety inspection of any and all areas of the station –"

Now it was Lennier's turn to interrupt. He came as close to shouting as he ever had in his life. "The ambassador's quarters are legally part of the Minbari Federation, and are thus not subject to your whims!"

"Aargh! This has nothing to do with whims! Look, from my perspective, something very strange is happening with the electrical system. And, you seem to be trying to stop me from fixing it, and you won't even tell me why! Plus, safety overrides ambassadorial privilege. Read the station rulebook." So there.

Lennier's silence made him appear even angrier than his raised voice did. Finally, he spoke again. "We appear to be at an impasse."

Miller realized her current approach was not going to work. Can you actually reboot a conversation? She sighed, and said, "Okay, here's what we're going to do. I'm going to go out, and come back in two minutes. Then, we'll try again, and maybe we can both do better." She nodded to Lennier, and escaped to the hallway.

Miller leaned up against the bulkhead for support. Okay, what is going on here? I am obviously not going to get any info out of this guy going at him this way, and somehow I don't think Sinclair will be happy with me if I manage to start a diplomatic incident. Sooooo, let's pretend. Let's pretend I am calm, cool, and collected, and oh-so-polite. I can out-Minbari the Minbari. Right?

On the other side of the bulkhead, Lennier attempted to slow his breathing, to engage in his own meditation. Human. She is a Human, so she speaks bluntly. She does not understand the sanctity of our rituals, and does not understand that some things are for Minbari eyes only. What would Delenn wish of me?

He thought of times he had seen Delenn remain calm even when faced with the interminable (and, in his mind, irrational) tirades from the Gaim ambassadorial staff. Or, times she had remained unfazed by constant innuendos and insinuations from Ambassador Mollari. Delenn always took a pragmatic approach, not being afraid to violate Minbari customs with non-Minbari if it was necessary for the situation. After all, she is an ambassador. Perhaps I should attempt to take the Human's perspective in this case. Yes, I will play her game, and pretend we have not yet spoken. Lennier smiled ever so slightly as he concluded his short meditation and prepared to open the door, just as the doorbell chimed again.

"Good evening, Mister Lennier," intoned Miller, inclining her head slightly as she had seen Minbari do. "How may I be of service to you?"

"Chief Miller, thank you for coming so promptly. Please come in and sit down." Lennier again indicated the seating area, and they both sat down.

Lennier looked directly at Miller, a directness that felt inappropriate to him but that he realized was important to Humans. "Ambassador Delenn would not wish me to obstruct your efforts to serve her, not even to maintain her privacy. I am willing to do as you ask, including showing you to Ambassador Delenn's quarters. However, I must request that you keep anything you see tonight completely confidential."

Miller knew that the Minbari could be very secretive people. She was prepared for this. "Mister Lennier, I am happy to help in any way I can. However, if there is a situation that I judge to be a threat to the safety of the station or any of its occupants, I am obligated to make a report to Commander Sinclair."

"Understood. I do not believe, however, that such a report will be necessary. Let me explain what I believe is happening." Lennier paused, realizing that he truly knew very little about the device Delenn had constructed to begin her metamorphosis. "Ambassador Delenn recently constructed an ancient device, handed down over generations of Minbari, from the time of Valen, our greatest leader. All she knows about the function of the device is that it will transform her in some way. It appears that the device requires an outside source of power. I fear that the device may be causing the electrical disturbances in this residential quadrant. However, I fear greatly that any further interruption to the power supply may jeopardize the ambassador's life."

Okay, now we're getting somewhere. "Mister Lennier, thank you for your frankness. I assure you that I will do my best to – " let you have your cake and eat it too – "remedy the situation without disturbing the device or reducing its access to electricity. As far as is possible, I will respect the ambassador's privacy, but I may need to see the device."

Lennier looked relieved – or at least that is how Miller interpreted his change in posture. She was not sure, though, whether he was relieved because he had managed to give her some information without having a fit of apoplexy, or because she herself had reacted calmly to the news that the mysterious device might be at the root of the electrical problem.

Lennier continued, apparently fortified by his previous revelations. "No one has ever seen the device in operation. The exact origin of the device is not known, though appears to be related to Vorlon technology. "

Miller's eyebrows threatened her hairline. "Pardon me, but did you say 'Vorlon?'"

Lennier, although he had neither eyebrows nor a hairline, had learned that this gesture signaled astonishment in Humans. "Indeed. However, I cannot tell you any more about the device without violating confidences entrusted to me as Delenn's aide. Perhaps it would be more helpful if you were to see the device."

Almost there, thought Miller. "Yes, thank you, that would indeed be useful. I assure you that I will do my best to see only what I need to see." Miller had heard this phrase used by a Minbari once, and thought it might apply in this situation.

Lennier nodded, and rose from his seat. "Please, follow me, but do not touch anything." Miller put her hands behind her back, to signal her understanding, and to remind herself that this visit was strictly hands off. Lennier opened the door that adjoined his living area to the ambassador's – a common arrangement in the ambassadorial sector. Miller followed Lennier, trying hard not to crane her neck to see around him.

The living area was dim, lit only by candles and pyramidal oil-lamps. On the dining table, there was an structure built of what appeared to be flat pieces of multi-colored glass, with a glowing pyramid at the top. The device did not appear to be connected to any electrical fixtures or outlets. Every few seconds, the pyramid emitted – seemingly from nowhere – a piece of white fluff. Each piece of fluff joined many companions in the nearby corner, adding to what appeared to be nothing other than a cocoon.

Miller couldn't help herself. "Holy crap, she's in a cocoon!" She immediately clamped her hand over her mouth. Lennier politely pretended not to have noticed her outburst.

"May I look more closely?" Miller whispered. "I promise I won't touch anything. I just want to see if the … cocoon … is connected to any electrical outlets."

Lennier nodded. "Yes, you may inspect. I prefer to call the ambassador's current abode a 'chrysalis.'"

Miller bent down to peer at the chrysalis, and finally crawled towards it. She sat on the floor in front of the chrysalis, and stared at it for several minutes. Finally, she stood up, and said quietly, "All right, let's go back."

Back in Lennier's living area, Miller stated the facts as she knew them. "Okay, Mister Lennier. I could see that the chrysalis was extending some tendrils into the electrical outlets on either side of it. I don't want to make any assumptions, but my theory is that the chrysalis is somehow circumventing the circuit breakers that control those electrical outlets, and getting far more power than the outlets could get otherwise."

Lennier nodded. "What will your next step be?"

Miller rubbed her forehead. "Well, I have a couple of ideas. I may need to come back. I'll let you know. Right now, though, if the power usage of the, um, chrysalis remains constant, we're stuck with brownouts until I can figure out for sure what's happening."

"And if the power requirements increase?" asked Lennier.

"Yeah, that's the question, isn't it. I'm assuming there's nothing else you can tell me about how this device works, correct?"

"I have told you what little anyone knows about it, Chief Miller."

Miller again got out her datapad, and tapped away for a moment. "Okay, I'm sending you my direct com-code. If you see any changes, even something that you don't think is significant, call me right away. In the meantime, I'm gonna find some way to get more power to those outlets." She interrupted herself. "Hmm, better be careful not to overload the wiring, though. Sinclair will kill me if I burn the place down." Miller realized that Lennier's eyes had widened astonishingly. "No, don't worry, I just talk to myself like that sometimes – I would never do anything that would risk the safety of the station." Lennier nodded, realizing that she also likely did not mean that Commander Sinclair would actually execute her.

"So, I'll let you know when I know something more. In the mean time, just... keep doing... whatever it is you do." Miller winced. "I mean, carry on as usual."

"Understood," said Lennier. "On behalf of Ambassador Delenn, I thank you," he said, walking Miller to the door.

Back in the corridor, Miller heaved a sigh of relief. "Well, there's a reason I'm an engineer, and not a politician," she reminded herself. She headed back to the generator service panel, to meet up with the techs again. They were scrutinizing the readouts on the panel, trying to look as busy as they could without actually doing anything.

"Okay, guys. I'm going to have a look at the generator."

Abbott frowned. "Why, Chief? Isn't all the information here on the display?"

"Apparently not, since the generator diagnostic tells us everything is working perfectly, none of the circuit breakers are tripped, and yet the whole quadrant is having brownouts!"

Abbott had the grace, and the intelligence, to look sheepish. "Oh, yeah. There is that."

Chen asked, "What did you find out from the Minbari?"

Miller sighed. "Well, let's just say I think that I need to physically look at the generator to get some more ideas. Just me for now, okay? I know I'm being weird, but it's important."

Chen and Abbott shrugged and nodded. The three proceeded around the corner to the doorway that led to the mechanical room for the quadrant. Miller inserted her identicard into the slot, and the door swooshed open. "You guys wait out here, okay?"

Miller entered the closet-like room. The walls were lined with manual shut-offs for every conceivable pipe and duct for the entire quadrant. The back of the room was completely filled by the small cold-fusion generator that powered the quadrant. Miller studied the layout of the room for a moment, and then removed a panel from the wall next to the generator, exposing the various conduits that led to each living area. She unhooked her flashlight from her utility belt, and shone it into the tangle of conduits. "Well, looky here." A thick, organic-looking tendril followed the course of one of the conduits. The number on the conduit matched the number belonging to one of the circuits in Ambassador Delenn's quarters. Miller removed a device from her tool belt, and placed its tip near the tendril She whistled. "Holy mackerel, what are you?" The readout on the device indicated that the tendril was carrying about 80% of the total power the generator was rated to produce.

The tendril snaked along the conduit, into the manual circuit-breaker box. Miller removed another panel, exposing the connections from the breaker box to the generator itself. "Wow. You are one hungry whatever-you-are." She thought for a moment, and went back out into the corridor.

"Okay, guys, I need a portable generator that can (a), fit through this door, and (b), give us as much juice as possible."

"You got it, Chief," said Chen. "I know just the thing – we had it down in Hydroponics last week when their generator quit."

Abbott couldn't contain his curiosity. "So, what's wrong with the generator?"

Miller grinned. "Nothing. I think the diagnostic was right. I just need the generator to test a theory. Sorry guys, but that's all you're getting." The two confused and disappointed techs left to retrieve the device.

Miller retreated into the privacy of the mechanical room. "Miller to C&C."

"C&C here."

"Who's the commanding officer on duty tonight? I need authorization for something."

"Commander Sinclair is on duty tonight," said the female communications officer. "Shall I put you through to him?"

"Yes, please; might as well get this over with before it gets late." She waited while C&C reached the Commander.

"Sinclair here; go ahead, Chief."

"Commander, I'm sorry to bug you, but I've got kind of a weird problem..." Miller filled him in while she waited for the techs to bring the generator. She carefully omitted any mention of the tone of her initial discussion with Lennier. "...So, if things are happening the way I think they are, I am probably gonna want to tap into the main fusion core, to give this thing however much juice it wants."

Several seconds went by before Sinclair replied. "Well, Chief, I think 'weird' is a pretty good word. I trust your judgment; do what you need to do. I'll write an order for you to tap into the fusion core at your discretion. It'll be signed and in the log within five minutes. And, I don't need to remind you that ancillary taps into the core get shut down automatically if there's a combat situation."

Miller heaved a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Commander. And, may I suggest that you talk with Mr. Lennier? I mean, don't tell him I said so, but I think it would be smart if someone officially knew what was going on down there. He didn't want me to say anything to anyone, but I did kind of have to tell you the basics."

Sinclair chuckled. "Chief, that'll be my first stop after signing the orders. Sinclair out."

Just then, Miller could hear Abbott and Chen in the corridor with the portable generator. She replaced the panels she had removed, and opened the door.

"Okay guys, thanks. Bring 'er in and fire her up." They maneuvered the generator into place, and started it up.

"Now what?" asked Abbott.

"Now, we leave. Ooooh, I can see little, teeny question marks hanging over your heads! I know, those really hurt, don't they? Sorry guys," continued Miller, ushering the two out to the corridor, "it's not fair, I know, but I really can't let you in on it yet. But, this will cheer you up. We're gonna get ready to, drum roll please, tap into the central plasma line!"

The techs looked at her skeptically. "Don't you have to get command-level orders for that?"

Miller smiled, smugly. "Already have 'em. The nearest plasma line is two levels aft, where the mid-station pulse cannon battery is located. So, as your consolation prize, get the equipment we'll need – I just sent a list to Supply – and have it there ASAP."

"Yes, ma'am!" The techs went on their way.

Miller commed Lennier. "Mister Lennier, may I come see you please, immediately? I think I may have some answers for you."

"Certainly. I will expect you shortly, Chief."

Back at Lennier's quarters, Miller told Lennier what she had found in the generator room, and explained her theory. "I think that the chrysalis seeks out power, in the same way that a plant's roots seek out water. The generator isn't able to supply all the power that the chrysalis needs, which is why we're having the brownouts. So, I'm testing that theory by putting a portable generator in the generator room, to see if the tendrils will find it and hook up to it."

Lennier digested this information. Finally, he spoke. "I have two questions. First, how do you know that the portable generator will supply enough power to satisfy the needs of the chrysalis? And second, why did the tendrils stop at the generator?"

Miller grinned. "Mister Lennier, you have a very scientific mind. As for your first question, I don't think the second generator will satisfy the needs of the chrysalis. I'm just using it to test my theory. If, in a few minutes, there are tendrils growing towards the second generator, I'll know that they can find power on their own." She paused. "As for the second question... I don't really know why the tendrils didn't try to reach farther. Could be that it's so far away that they didn't smell it. Could be that they aren't able to tap into raw plasma lines to use that power directly. Hell, it's a totally unknown piece of technology that we've got here, so I really don't know. But," she continued, "my plan is to tap into the nearest plasma line, set up a converter station there, and then send a truly enormous power cable right into the generator room. I don't know whether the chrysalis could access raw plasma, but it's a moot point, since there's no safe and quick way to reroute the plasma."

Lennier nodded. "I believe I understand. You are, in a sense, watering the plant, directly at its roots."

"Preeeee-cisely!" Lennier skittered backwards in alarm at this yell. "Oops," whispered Miller, "don't want to disturb the ambassador."

"I do not believe she is aware of her surroundings," stated Lennier. "I would like to see the results of your experiment, if that would be permitted."

"Sure," said Miller. Though, what will people think when they see me going into a closet with a Minbari? She giggled. Lennier looked at her quizzically. "Sorry, I can't control my own brain. It's a Human thing." Lennier agreed, silently.

The two departed Lennier's quarters and visited the generator room. Immediately upon entering, Miller could see new, delicate-looking tendrils reaching into the portable generator's power outlets.

"See?" she said to Lennier, pointing to the tendrils. "Just as I thought."

Lennier peered towards the area where Miller's flashlight beam shone. "The substance appears to be the same as the material that makes up the chrysalis."

"Yep, I am pretty sure we can lick this thing."

Lennier stared at Miller. "I would not advise licking the tendrils, Chief. I do not know what they are made of, but we do know that they may be carrying a great deal of electricity."

"Oh, boy. It's an expression. It means that we have the problem beaten."

"I see," he said. He straightened and continued. "Thank you for your help, Chief Miller. I appreciate that you thought to consult me on this matter, and I apologize for my initial … reluctance to be forthcoming."

"No problem; I probably came on a little strong – overdid it – talked too much. Yep, that's me. Sorry." She took a deep breath. "Anyhow. I'll let you know before I run the power from the fusion core; I'll want you to be on the lookout for any changes then. Though, I think this thing is smart enough to know what to do."

Miller and Lennier left the generator room. On the way out, Miller swiped her identicard through the reader once more, and said to the console, "Computer: this area is now restricted. Access allowed only to me, command staff, and Mister Lennier of the Minbari Federation."

"Acknowledged," replied the computer voice.

Miller glanced at Lennier. "Just in case you want to check on things."

Lennier made a triangular shape with his hands and thumbs, and bowed to her. "Thank you." With a gentle swish of robes, he turned and went down the hall.

Miller departed, to help the techs set up the tap into the plasma line.

-~-~-~-~-~

"Personal log, Earth date 30 January 2258. I have just had a most unusual and educational encounter with Lt. Cmdr. Sharon Miller, the chief engineer of the the station. She speaks in the forthright manner of the Warrior caste, and wears the uniform of the EarthForce. But she thinks and solves problems in the pragmatic manner of the Worker caste. And she speaks in the manner of... no Human I have encountered before. However, she was also able to be polite and deferential in a way similar to the Religious caste, even offering to see only what needed to be seen. She left me with no doubt in my mind that the problem with the power supply to the chrysalis would be solved. When Ambassador Delenn is again with us, I must discuss with her this unusual combination of attributes. Computer, end log entry."