A bit of a longer chapter this time so I hope you enjoy it! I had a lot of fun playing around with Minbarii space as you will see...
X-X
Chapter Three:
Marcus was going to do it. He was.
It was just a matter of choosing the right time.
It wasn't like he hadn't had the chance recently. Minutes had melded into hours, hours into days, days into weeks all with one over arching factor is common.
Boredom.
Because nothing had happened. It was the most uneventful period he'd ever experienced unless you counted the time when he was 'dead'. (Frequently termed as the 'cocoon stage'.)
But now – no new Rangers, no accidents, no White Star collisions, no unexpected guests, not even the merest whiff of a fight. It was peaceful and relaxing and soothing and he had a feeling Susan was going to crack any day now. Maybe he should set up an explosion somewhere just to give her something to do.
Of course it wasn't they hadn't been busy. (Don't mistake nothing and boredom for a lack of busyness). Reports piled on reports swamped him and Susan was drowning in paperwork – but somehow filling out forms didn't have the same excitement as storming into battles did.
"My life is like a docking bay." Susan announces, pacing restlessly up and down their quarters.
"Fifty ships come at once and you're trying to deal with them all, frantically cataloguing then – boom – nothing for days and you're bored out of your skull sitting in the transit lounge."
She throws her hands in the air. "Why does this world hate me so much? Why does god hate me huh? What have I ever done to him?"
Marcus yawns. "Besides insulting him under your breath for fun, frequently using his name in vain whenever anything does happen and committing hubris by announcing to all under your command that – I quote – 'Ivanova is god'; then I suppose you haven't done anything really."
Susan sends him a cold glare and he backs towards the kitchen and flicks on the kettle. "Um, do you want some coffee?" He's found its best to keep on her good side when she's in one of these moods.
She throws herself on the sofa. "Why did I ever consider retirement? Remind me never to do so; I mean I must be near that age by now but if I ever show any sign of temptation strand me on desert island for a week." She glances over at him. "Am I near retirement age now? Am I? I can't even remember anymore, my mind and body is deteriorating from lack of use."
Marcus doubts that will ever happen. Even now stretched languidly over the sofa her body is poised and powerful ready to spring at a moment's notice. She's fuel tank for energy. "So you not knowing your age means I can't give you a birthday present next year?"
"I wish. I think we both know that's never going to happen."
Susan turned fifty two the month before and Marcus threw her a surprise party – she's still plotting revenge. He kind of hopes she never got round to it.
The kettle finishes boiling and he extracts two mugs. "I really wouldn't worry. Before you know something else will come up and you'll be back to sleepless nights in no time." The water's boiled and he pours it carefully.
A chime at the door breaks Marcus's concentration and he curses, burning pain shooting up his arm. Susan throws a tea towel at him and strides to the door. "Enter!"
It's Neider; one of the most renowned Rangers and a trusted adviser. "Entil'zh" He bows quickly to both of them and Marcus flaps the hand not scrubbing the worktop at him. Susan smiles welcomingly, instantly ushering him towards the sofa.
"Neider! Come in, sit down." Her tone is strangely warm and the quiet Minbarii obeys with a nervous glance.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome. What news do you have for us? Nothing unfortunate's happened has it?" The worry in her voice is almost convincing.
"No, no nothing serious." She wilts visibly at that. "However some Rangers were training on the outskirts of Minbarii space; you know the small Banta moon where long term isolated exercises take place. But a message just came through; they need to return early – in just under a week."
"Oh…of course." Susan's tone is dull again and Marcus stifles a grin, bending over to wipe the surface. "Well that's simple, I'll inform the Captain of White Star 22 that he'll leave in a couple of days. I think it's available."
She glances at the Ranger. "You didn't need to inquire with us about this Neider. You can sort issues like this on your own authority – you know that."
"I did Entil'zh however…" He pauses with delicacy that only Minbarii can manage. "I was wondering if perhaps you two would want to go."
"Us?" Their simultaneous replies combine; mingling surprise together.
"Yes." A shadow of a smile flits across Neider's features. "I believe it would be – pleasant for you to, perhaps get away for a short time. We Minbarii feel that sometimes remaining in one place can be – em, stifling for some of the free spirit. It is good to take breaks from ones normal routine, in order to reflect on life in a…different environment."
He reminds Marcus of Lennier: having perfected that art of hesitant courtesy while offering advice that was usually obligatory to accept.
Marcus feels his stomach twist at the thought of Lennier: Gone now, without the chance of goodbye, a farewell (not that he ever liked them anyway). Just…vanished. Even after almost a year Marcus is still catching himself on how much has changed.
He packages that thought in a box; let it stay locked and rot there. It's a system he's perfected over the years.
"You really want us to go?" He tosses the tea towel down and moves over. "Should I enquire about this sudden eagerness? Is there some forbidden party planned I should know about?"
Neider bows respectfully, a smile hovering. "I believe the human saying in these scenarios is now that would be telling. Of course if there was a party I would not want you to be…angered will the knowledge."
"Angered? Me? Nonsense." Marcus scratches his head. "I'd just be offended you didn't invite me."
Susan rolls her eyes in exasperation. "Well as…appealing as the journey sounds Neider. I really don't think we can be spared. It's a two day journey each way – simply not possible." She speaks reluctantly; her firm answer barely masking the regret.
"Ah yes Entil'zh of course not." Neider agrees. "We have after all been overrun with crisis's of late, barely a moment free. I understand why you would feel such guilt at leaving this hectic place without your guidance for almost half a week. I do not know how we would manage." He punctuates the reassurance with nods of his head befitting the sober expression. Susan erects another icy glare in reply.
Marcus chuckles and shifts his gaze to the high ceiling, thoughts bouncing inside his mind. Could they? Neider was right; it wasn't as if they were going to be missed. Susan would be hard to convince but he'd always been a master of persuasion after all.
"Come on Susan, why not?" The words pop out impulsively and her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. He carries on quickly. "We're not needed here, nothing's happened. Why shouldn't we go? It might be fun."
"You obviously haven't been introduced to the concept of Murphy's Law. Trust me the moment the door closes behind me the whole place will go up in flames or infested by giant bugs or something I don't even want to envision."
"Then don't." His tone is wheedling now. "You know you want to. When was the last time you went up into space? We can leave tomorrow and make a few stops on the way; there are plenty of planets in Minbarii space I haven't seen and you need to get out more. What about the Singing Cliffs Delenn's always talking about? That can't be far off course." He expertly leaves that suggestion hanging and turns to Neider. "You know on Earth we have another name for this period of reflection; we call it a holiday…Some people struggle with the concept. Workaholics, control freaks…"
"Control freak?" The stony words cut through his twittering instantly. "Neider, could you give us a moment please?" The Ranger (who'd been backing away) obeyed with alacrity. "We'll be out in a moment."
As the door slid smoothly shut Susan turned on him. He's surprised sparks don't come from her eyes. "Are you really sure you want to go around calling people that?" Her voice is deceptively sweet and tenses his muscles automatically.
"Well not really but if the label sticks…"
"If the label sticks..." She trails off ominously and takes a couple of steps forward. He seems to shrink a little.
"Absolutely, a label is of course meant to stick. It could be my pet name for you. Have you got tired of Peppermint Cream already –?"
"Marcus. Just don't ever call me that again."
Ah, he's touched a nerve. Despite her rather – advantageous – position he decides to plunge for a chance. "On one condition." He cocks his head on one side and pulls a crooked grin. "I think you know what."
She places hands on hips. "You're not going to give it up are you?"
"No. If you don't agree I'm just going to kidnap you and force you to come on the holiday anyway. It would probably be a lot more relaxing this way. For both of us." Former debates from years before flood his mind. "Remember: Rangers never bluff."
Obviously the quip sparks the same memories for her. Her jaw twitches, fists tightening briefly before unclenching. She exhales in a long, huffing breath and Marcus knows he's won.
"I hate you."
"Of that I'm well aware." She's never been a gracious loser after all.
"Six days. Maybe a week. No longer. Got it?"
"Mmm, hmm." His mind is already ferreting with plan. Planets to visit, people to see; Marcus always loved holidays when he was younger. The whole family packing off to some distant location to tour. After his parents – and then Will died – any holiday became a slowly numbing torment; the equivalent to having a red hot poker shoved up you backside. (The fate of one King of England if Marcus remembered rightly). Nobody to go and visit, nothing to do and no work to distract him and keep his mind occupied. On Babylon 5 holiday's were a virtual impossibility, a bonus as far as he was concerned but now…
Now this holiday was going to be different. Not relaxing perhaps but different. Enjoyable. A change of scenery.
"Yes I've got it."
Susan sighed deeply again. "Why do I get the feeling I'm going to regret this?"
"You're a born pessimistic. Obviously no one's introduced you to the concept of 'the glass's half full'." He grinned at her frosty expression. "I'll go and tell Neider the plan."
X-X
The following days are busy. They pack up a White Star early in the morning and leave just after the sun rises. Numerous instructions left behind, detailing emergency procedures, lists of Ranger training programs and anything else Susan deems 'crucial'. Marcus has a suspicion half of it went in the holy fires the moment they exited the atmosphere.
Then again Susan wasn't so impressed with the amount he packed – somehow she didn't seem to think monopoly, swimming costumes and snowboards were necessary.
But the sights were incredible. They climbed the Singing Cliffs of Seierra – whose haunting melodies could be heard for miles around. The Minbarii said there were souls within the mountain; trapped there centuries past to keep them cleansed and pure away from the tainted world until everyone had forgotten the way in. The sound was them singing for release.
Whatever the case climbing the cliffs was made difficult due to the substance. Not rock (as any sensible person would expect) but a jelly like texture; smooth and slippery that trembled and curved as you fought your way up.
It hadn't occurred to Marcus how much he'd missed holed up on Minbar: Feather Floats – feathers large enough to sit and have a ride in. (The views were pretty intense).
The Oceans of Air – natural sea pools made up of some chemical that meant you could actually breathe under water.
What the humans labelled 'Minbarii Ghost Town' – at the dawn of every day you could sit and watch the illusion of old cities appear throughout one small Minbarii planet.
The Fire Folk; creatures formed from actual flames, they were as sudden and temperamental as their name and you had to be careful getting too close but even so...if you managed to catch a glimpse of one it was an honour. Marcus was sure he saw five but Susan claimed there'd been as many as eight: she was just overly demanding that one.
The Mines of Mvvar which unearthed flowers made from unnamed gemstones; the Minbarii had stopped mining them when they realised the stones actually grew.
Space Beaches and Swimming Lights. Dancing Statues and the Mirror of Dreams.
They'd been interested in the old Minbarii histories and legends although agreed that after one old Priest tried to seduce them into a thirty hour demonstration ceremony they'd have to be careful about questions asked.
Of course the best thing was that the Minbarii on the White Star did all the driving so there were no arguments over map reading and asking for directions.
Early on the sixth day Marcus lay gazing around the sleeping chamber of White Star 22: they were nearing the Banta Moon and from there should take a more direct route home. Neither he nor Susan thought it was right to subject the innocent Ranger's to participate in their holiday; besides he wanted to get Susan away from work and bringing twenty of them along sightseeing would've ruined that.
He sighed, twirling the object idly between his fingers. He still hadn't done it. It wasn't he hadn't tried. He'd attempted it several times and come pretty close at one point – at a lot of points – but somehow there'd never been the perfect moment.
He was probably just being fussy: his mum had always got irritated at his fussiness when he was younger; food, toys, friends.
"Marcus, sometimes you just have to get on with life and stop trying to make everything perfect. You have to take things the way they are. You can't solve everything dear."
He smiled wryly at the memory; good advice – maybe he should take it, maybe he should just bite the bullet and –
"Marcus?"
Marcus shot up like he'd been stung, stuffing the object back into his robes pocket. He blushed and hands scratched the back of his neck, frantically trying to appear calm. "Um, yes – I was just…thinking that uh, sorry – What did you want?" He winced inwardly at the babble that spilled out.
Susan gave him an odd look and his cheeks reddened. "I was just coming to tell that we'll probably drop out of light speed in a couple of minutes; apparently there's a moon arrangement – The Ten Tribes it's called – that's worth seeing."
"Ah sounds good. Should be a memorable end to the trip." He grinned, the brief scare passing. "Glad I managed to convince you?"
"If I hadn't wanted to come in the first place you'd never had had a chance you know."
"Excellent. In that case we should do it again." He paused as a thought occurred. "You know I remember a while ago, before…everything; you said when the war ended you wanted to return to Earth, see St Petersburg, your father's grave. Did – did you ever do all of that?"
Susan sighed and sank down on the angled bed opposite him. Loose hair falls over her shoulder, curtaining her expression. "Not immediately." Her voice was leaden. "I was stationed on a lot of other ships, in charge of other fleets for a couple of years; I never really made a conscious effort to return."
He can hear the sad smile in her voice. "Never really thought about having that sky above me again. Later obviously I was promoted and went back to Earth. Then I tried…I travelled a little and visited St Petersburg but it was boxed in between work and commitments and duties."
Marcus frowns and she meets his eyes. "You know how it is. An urgent message even arrived when I was by my father's grave." She laughed trying to sound light hearted but Marcus's own heart ached for the implications of her words. "In the end I just gave up on the whole idea."
He knows without her saying that it was partly to do with him. Steven said the reason she left Babylon 5 was to get away from the memories, to run away from the grief and guilt burnt into the walls of the place she'd once considered home. She'd taken the new position to absorb herself in more work…to forget. Dreams like gazing at the sky just left room open for more pain.
Marcus wished there was a way he could have avoided that but there wasn't; the only other option was to let her fade away completely and that was unacceptable.
"Well in that case," He's careful to keep the tone the right mix of humour and determination. He doesn't want her depressed but she'd better realise he's serious here. "We'll definitely have to do this again: next time – a holiday on Earth."
There's a short pause and he wonders if that was a not so tactful suggestion but her bowed head lifts and a quiet smiles reaches him. "That might be nice."
A longer pause ensues and Marcus slides over to take Susan's hand in his. He's isn't sure if its pleasure or torment to be back on a White Star with her again – so much of their time together were on these: Fighting in the Shadow War, weeks searching for the First Ones... the two of them cocooned in the tiny ship adrift in space all alone in the black, a tiny island just for them. He had a feeling she only talked to him because he was the only other being on board who spoke English but still – she talked.
To him the White Star is all of those isolated moments, that haven of time. It's Susan's stressing about convincing the First One's to join them, it's his disbelief at having to get permission to talk about her personal life (and subsequent determination to do so), it's her dreams of the war being over, its his admittance he's a virgin and waiting for 'someone special', its their bantering arguments about getting rest and who needs the sleep more...it's his offers to teach her Minbarii and sneaking in cloaked compliments, its her discovering and displaying actual gratitude for those compliments.
But on the other hand the White Star is other memories as well: It's the piece of shrapnel careering towards the window destroying the oh-so-brief moment of victory, it's the sound of shattering glass and collapsing beams, it's the feel of her limp body in his arms as he drags her out through a haze of shaking terror, the sound of her failing heart beeping on the monitor and the sensation of his own failure seeping through his body, heart and soul.
Then again maybe this holiday is forging some new memories: maybe they'll be enough to outweigh the bad at last. Susan's shifts slightly and squeezes his hand. "We should go."
"Mmm...I know." He tightens his grip.
"Marcus." Her laugh crept through the frown. "We're jumping out of light speed any second now. Come on." She jabs a sharp elbow into his ribs and he winced.
"Alright, I'm coming."
X-X
Susan returns to the Control Room just as the eerie glow of light speed fades: Unnatural colours pulsate and dance on the walls before switching to the clear cut clarity of space. It makes Susan want to take a deep breath; like the air's just been refreshed – the fragrant spring breeze after a stifling winter season.
The captain gives them a quick nod from his command chair: he's Centarii, one of the first of his race to sign on with the Rangers and the very first to be made Captain. Susan's stomach gives a twist at seeing him there; not at his race – the Rangers are truly 'multi-cultural' now – but where he's sitting.
Or rather where she's notsitting: this trip's been odd – not giving the orders, not being in control. She's almost been a civilian; a position that takes some getting used to.
She and Marcus stand to one side, watching through the large window; there're only a few stars on the horizon this is an isolated area of space and Susan can see an asteroid field in the distance. But no moons. "So where exactly are these ten tribes?"
Captain Elopen mutters a few orders under his breath to the crew that Susan doesn't quite catch. "Sorry Entil'zh it should be just around…" The ship circles slowly and she can detect the frown on his face. "That's odd; we seem to be picking up some kind of disturbance between us and the –"
WHAM!
The ship hurtles to one side – an ear-splitting crack echoing through the roof. The view in front of them flips as Susan is thrown to the floor.
"Susan!"
"Marcus?" Her blurred gaze rolls open. "I'm fine!" The ground's still shaking. Marcus's pale face breaks through her broken vision. Her head's spinning as she stumbles up. "What the hell was that?"
"I have no idea but –"
He's cut off by another shake. Lights flash dancing on the inside of her blinking lids. The whole ship shudders. There are screams everywhere. Scattered yells and order in Minbarii reach them. Outside Susan can see ships sweeping past the window. She grips the nearby console with knuckled fists.
"I repeat. What. The. Hell. Was. That?"
Captain Elopen hears her. "Raiders Entil'zh!" He flips the comment over his shoulder; frantically calling out orders to the crew left standing.
"Raiders?" Marcus's English accent is tinged with disbelief. "Out here?" He frowns. "What could they be doing? It makes no sense."
Susan curses under her breath. "Well as much as I'd love to argue that out with you I think we have more urgent concerns right now!"
"Calm down there's a dear. I'm insulted you think so little of the White Stars. We can take down a couple of Raider ships."
Elopen glances over his shoulder at them his face taunt with concentration. "One Raider ship – yes; we would – as you humans say – have them for breakfast. Try nine by surprise. And we were damaged in the first hit."
"Nine."
Of course. Nine Raiders. Just their luck.
Susan always personally referred to 'Raiders' as 'Pirates': They committed the same crimes their predecessors had generations before. Only this time they robbed space ships rather than ocean ones.
They'd had been hunted almost to nonexistence in recent years; in Minbarii space they didn't – make that shouldn't – exist at all. This group must have taken shelter in the fringes hoping to be far enough away to avoid notice. Usually they travelled alone or rare pairs. Perhaps they were planning a large attack on some wealthy convoy passing.
Another explosion breaks Susan's train of thought. A fireball goes up past the window and scattered debris whirls through space. One down, eight to go. Her head's pounding. Jolts thud through her body. Feet firmly apart, struggling to stay centred. The White Star veers sharply to the right firing beams with pinpoint accuracy. Seven.
Crashes echo as the doorway falls into itself. A Minbarii ducks out of the way and Susan's teeth jar. Dust drifts through the room grit settling into her dry mouth. Ahead a ship twists to face them. Steamrolling. Closer and closer and...
The green flash blinds them. She squints as the ship erupts into more flames. Six. Adrenaline's shooting through her veins, heart hitting a speed it hasn't reached in months. Her hair has spilled loose across her neck; Susan scrapes it back irritably with sweaty palms.
Anyone would think she's insane but this is actually, well, quite...fun? Yes Susan Ivanovo has finally lost it. But all those years of being stuck in offices; trotting out polite speeches and meandering through paperwork did take their toll. She's forgotten how alive you can feel at the point of death.
She glances at Marcus. A gash forms its way across his cheek, blood very red against the pale skin and dark hair. Even now he manages to flash a grin, eyes sparkling with the same excitement she can feel. Below that thought there's tautness to his expression. Hands clenching tightly, jaw twitching. With a start Susan realises why. Memories of their last battle flood her mind; right now the screams, the gunshots, the barking orders could be from then. An icy hand claws at her insides. She grits her teeth, steel determination setting in.
That would not happen again.
"Captain!" Her yell rises above the din. Not quite like a soaring melody as much a wolf's howl. "Is it possible to go into light speed? Not that I've ever enjoyed being called a coward but it might be time to cut our losses."
"Thanks for that Susan; you are exactly the glass half full person we love having around at times like this."
She ignores Marcus's mutter beside her. She's not giving him any – and she means any – more chances to pull another stunt like that last one.
The Captain however looks furtive. "Entil'zh, I apologise but we – ah...can't."
"Can't?"
"Our hyper drive was hit during the first blast."
Marcus leans forward. "Surely our defences, our shields would have prevented that. Raider's ship aren't that powerful."
"No but...you see while you two – travelling around so much we thought this would be an opportune moment to do some extra technical work. The defences were um, down for a little while..." He cowers back under the strength of Susan's glare. "It was only one day! Maybe two we just didn't think it would be an issue –"
Another boom cuts the sentence off almost throwing him out of his seat. Susan and Marcus sway, clenching the console.
Glimpses of the remaining ships are out the window. All six wheeling around to encase them.
"You didn't think it would be an issue!"
Marcus glances at her and back to Elopen. "Circle back." He ordered.
The Captain pauses and the ships approach closer, blocking up the horizon.
Susan ignores them. Something in Marcus's voice forces her to focus on him.
He looks back at her, dark eyes clear and steady.
A thousand message pass in an instant; her gaze widens in brief shock before returning to dauntless steel.
She purses her lips and gives a sharp nod.
"Do as he says."
The ships are still coming.
Elopen frowns, darting between the two.
She waits; he's an intelligent Captain – and a brave one.
Even the bravest can wilt sometimes though.
The window view is almost completely consumed by metal, the ships are going to fire any second now...
Susan watches as his mind connects the dots: what little colour in his face drains away but apart from that he remains still.
Marcus fixes his gaze on him, ignoring the rocking ground. "Can you do it?"
Elopen raises his head, every inch a Ranger. "Whether we can do it is no matter." His jaw clenches in determination. "We live for the One...and we die for the One. We have no other option to try."
As the ships begin to fire, golden streaks raining down upon them Elopen's orders ring through the air.
The White Star flips around, executing a backward turn. They narrowly twist around the raiders and plunge into the asteroid field.
Streaking through a narrow gap the Raider behind them fires; grazing the side of the ship.
"Just so you know!" Elopen informs them, the dignity of the former moment lost instantly.
"You two are –" They dip under another approaching pair.
"– completely – " Miss another mammoth asteroid by mere inches.
"– utterly – " Dodge the neon beam of the Raider behind them.
"– unquestionably – " Small scatters of rock pound the White Star's wing.
"– INSANE!"
Their purser veers into one of the (many) space rocks and explodes into a thousand scraps of gleaming shard.
Susan stifles a wince, holding the stoic expression perfected over the years.
He's right, negotiating an asteroid field itself is suicide: With six (five, she corrects herself mentally) enemy ships tailing you it's...
Well what's one step further than suicide?
Susan inhales deeply trying to control the sudden bubbling in her stomach. Outside her Elopen and the crew's yells slowly sink into the background, her mind only aware of stifling silence.
It closes in on her like the ships outside, shutting her eyes she aware of a sudden sense of claustrophobia: as if death itself was reeling her in. Trapping her in the cage that had waited so long.
Susan has never been scared of death.
Many people (mistakenly) believe that she has never been scared at all but they're wrong.
She has been scared of many things: Of being left behind. Of failing her friends, her people and occasionally the whole galaxy. Of losing what control she has and cracking her practiced mask of strength. Of watching others die without her but for herself...
She has never been afraid to die.
So there is no reason for her to be shaking at this moment. There is no logical explanation for her ice cold fingers and fire hot cheeks. There is no cause for terror to be flooding her veins and horror clogging her throat.
Susan Ivanovo is not – cannot – at this crucial (and perhaps last) moment be – afraid of death?
But she is.
She does not want to die: for the first time in all her years of battles Susan does not face death like a challenge, an enemy to fight head on but a dark shadow – whose only form of defeat is escape.
Death – the shadow – is not an enemy to court and encourage and toy with – any sensible person should flee.
It is something to run from.
Irony of ironies it is only now that she's figured this out.
Susan knows why this change – this transformation – has occurred. For the first time in too many years, she has something to live for.
Now she understand why people fear death, why they speak of it in hushed and terrified tones: it is because they have something to lose. It is not the redeemer but the thief.
"Susan?" Marcus's soft voice pierces her silent world and she opens her eyes.
Tremors still rock through the White Star and she is vaguely aware of another explosion of red and gold in the cluttered expanse of space however Susan's gaze fixes on his. The substance in her throat which she called terror turning to a much more familiar lump.
Accompanying this lump is the heat behind her eyes, quickly boiling up to brim but not quite fall. (She is still retaining some level of control after all).
Marcus – as intuitive always – doesn't patronise her with comfort or false reassurance. He knows better than that, instead he braces himself against the increasing impact and reaches out to grip her hands in his.
"I always said you were too pessimistic for your own good."
"I'm Russian." The reply comes out in a tremulous half-laugh, half sob.
He laughs. "And I'm English. I don't use that as an excuse for anything."
"It's an excuse for everything. Do you really think you would have lived this long if you didn't have your stupid nationality to take responsibility?"
The Ranger-come- Entil'zh laughs again and Susan see's something in his expression harden into determination and decision.
"Well let's see if my nationality will take responsibility for this."
Marcus releases her hands and step backwards, barely managing to remain upright.
He ignores the battle spinning on around them and carefully begins to lowers himself to the ground.
Susan stares at him in blank confusion. What was that man doing now?
A muffled bang and abrupt yelling distracts her momentarily and she glances around – suddenly remembering they've just lead a crew of Ranger's into a horrifying asteroid field and possibly the jaws of death itself.
Captain Elopen see's her and manages a wink. "Only three left Entil'zh – If we live that long trusting you lunatics." He adds the final comment and rolls his eyes at Susan, nodding towards Marcus now balancing on one knee. "I'd listen to him if I was you – I think it's important."
Susan whirls around as Marcus extracts a small velvet box from the depths of his cloak.
Retorts, mocking and snarky comments all reach her tongue and halt; never to travel any further.
He cannot be doing this. Not here, not now, not in the middle of battle! Her brain freezes in disbelief. He just can't.
It appears however that he can.
And he is.
"Susan!" He has to shout to be heard above the uproar.
She stares at him without reply. Not to shut him up with one of her 'looks' but because all her breath has been knocked out.
However he gives a sheepish grin, obviously jumping to the wrong conclusion. "Alright. I'll address you properly."
The box opens with slowness she finds torture in the current circumstances to reveal a ring – probably the most unexpected, unprecedented engagement ring in all of history.
"Susan Ivonoava." His tone is revered and awestruck and a thousand other emotions all rolled into one; she thinks he looks like a monk finally face to face with the holy spirit he has been serving his whole life. Eyes totally, utterly fixed on hers.
This cannot be happening.
"Daughter of Andre and Sophie Ivanov. Entil'zh over all the Rangers. Former General of EarthCore." Amusement sparkles in his eyes and the sides of his mouth quiver suspiciously.
"Also described as the right hand of vengeance, death incarnate, the boot-that-is-going-to-kick-your-sorry ass-all-the-way-back-to-earth, the last living thing that you will ever see and occasionally God herself."
A smile breaks her stupefied shock and Susan can't restrain a chuckle, warmth starting to blossom in her clenched stomach muscles and spreading throughout her body.
"And," Marcus swallows, licking his lips anxiously and for the first time she realises he's nervous.
"The most brilliant, the bravest – and the most beautiful woman I have ever met. I was wondering if you would..."
Yes...?
"I mean to say..."
Come on.
"Would you do me the..."
Just get a move on you idiot!
"Will you –"
Another explosion cuts him off.
For the briefest second his face is obscured from view by steam and debris raining down from the ceiling.
Horror seeps through Susan's bones, forcing strength into her numb body: she leaps forward towards him.
Her heart performs the same manoeuvre; clogging her throat in a wordless scream.
She can't breathe. She can't think – every fibre of her being aching to reach out to grab his hands in hers and shake him until he finishes that damn sentence!
Then the room clears and the White Star spins into control again; two Raider's ships still isolated sparks against the rugged black background dotted with grey asteroids.
Susan doesn't really notice this though.
His face is the only spark against the whirling backdrop of battle and death.
Dark hair falling over the serious profile – devoid of the usual brightening grin.
Hands not quite steady as he held up the small box for inspection. (Although of course that's because of the rocking ship).
Body tense and balanced under the simple Entil'zh robes.
Susan has always thought Marcus would fit right in with Arthur's Knights at the Round Table – complete with the cloak and code of honour.
A hero who seemed to truly think she was worth fighting and battling and sacrificing for.
A man who would look at her with that ridiculously sappy expression as if she was his holy grail.
Yep. That was the expression he was wearing now.
His voice – no longer faltering – broke through her babbling consciousness.
"Susan. Will you marry me?"
Finally.
Susan ignores the yells drifting into the background. The star dusted explosion of two more ships. The asteroids whirling by like Satan's play toys – threatening to wipe them out in an instant.
Somehow in that moment none of it seems that significant.
One word though; one word means more than everything in the galaxy put together.
For a brief moment Susan imagines how Marcus would express the importance of this word to her:
The lost city of Atlantis rising from the ocean, Excalibur wielded in the hand of the Once and Future King, Helen rescued from Troy after decades of battle, the Stone Table of Aslan cracking at the dawn of the new day.
But Susan isn't Marcus, her mind is not one of flowery prose and colourful metaphors – her mind is made of battle plans and military manoeuvres. Logical and pragmatic.
To Susan this one word is more than anything she can express.
It is a miracle she is able to say it at all.
"Yes."
It is their future.
The grin that breaks out on his face is even greater – if that is possible – than the word itself.
In an instant he is on his feet; tenderly slipping the narrow band onto her finger, brushing his lips over her knuckles.
She holds the ring up; admiring the lights of the final imploding ship glinting against the metal.
It is a simple design: a gold circle, smooth and sinuous set with one emerald and one ruby twisted together to create the impression of two hands clasped together; gripping never to release.
Susan raises her head to smile at Marcus, knees still braced.
He gazes down at her; hands enclosing her's – this doesn't help with the balancing issue much but...oh well.
"You always did do things unconventionally." They're close enough not to have to yell now.
"Imagine how boring things would be if I didn't."
They've completely obliterated the Raiders but the chances are the asteroid field will kill them anyway.
Susan decides to let that thought go for now and leave negotiating the mine field of certain death to the crew for once.
"Mmm...Well it would certainly be quieter."
Marcus leans in closer; his nose brushing hers, voice like velvet. "Maybe."
She presses her forehead to his; inhaling his scent, his smell, absorbing every detail of his being.
They're death could be any second now – and she doesn't really care.
With that thought Susan abandons all control. A laugh breaks through; bubbling with mirth and she throws her arms around her fiancée's neck.
"Marcus, we're – Marcus!"
His own laughter mounting the man in question swings her around, arms tightly cocooning her waist.
Susan's hair fans out wildly, his cloak flows out behind him like some giant bat as they spin. Dark shadow mingles with flame to create a striking entwinement; Neider and the other Ranger's throw them an odd glance but Susan doesn't notice.
Around her the room disintegrates into a whirling mass; the crew, the battered White Star interior, the asteroids outside and even further beyond – the stars themselves all merge into a hazy mist as Susan and her husband-to-betwirl together. (Twirl? Her?)
A strange sense of freedom and recklessness overcomes Susan as they turn: These could be her last moments on – well not earth, but in this life at least and she is the happiest she has ever been.
(Yes Susan Ivonova just admitted she is happy).
If God and Heaven and all of that is out there after all; then she's pretty sure it must be more of this.
And what the hell: happiness, joy, eternal bliss or whatever you want to call it doesn't seem so bad.
Or maybe she's already died and this is Heaven in some form or other.
But right now, she has nothing to lose.
So instead of fighting the rocking ship she flows as one for it. Instead of resisting the jerks and jarring of the White Star she dances with her. Instead of avoiding the asteroids she laughs along with them.
Susan grips Marcus tighter and the intensity rises.
Closer and closer they lean; the tension of the crew mounting, nervousness soaring until at last, at last – the ship shoots out into the clear expanse of space and their lips meet in the final, thunderous kiss.
Susan isn't really sure how long it takes for them to realise they have survived the impossible. She's not really conscious of anything but his body wrapped around hers (in a way that she certainly wouldn't normally allow in public).
It isn't until a polite cough seeps through her mind that she becomes aware of - other things.
"Um, Entil'zh?"
The two of them break off to see Neider looking at them sheepishly; though Susan can detect the mischief lingering beneath the respectful gaze.
"I just wanted to inform you:" He says a face so blank that it makes Susan instantly suspicious.
"That we've just achieved a feat never recorded in history previously, a monumental event and the lives of every crew member – and of course the two of you – are wholly secure. I did not want to um, bother you; no doubt you'll consider it of little importance but just in case...I just thought you may want to know. Do feel free to return to your...previous activities."
Instantly Susan returned to her previous self; iron laws and control setting her scattered mind.
She withdrew her arms from Marcus's neck as if she had been stung by a Narn blaster and fired a steely glare of her own at Neider. He cowered a little.
"Well Captain," (Marcus instinctively backed away at the unbearable sweetness in her tone).
"I'm grateful for your concern. We both are. Of course any other such comments, relating to –what was it? Our activities, would of course result in the immediate trial – and probable execution – of a Captain who thought it...how did you phrase it? That it wouldn't be an 'issue' to remove the defences from his ship for a couple of days – while transporting the Entil'zh."
She smiled brightly and Neider gulps, bypassing white and going straight to ash grey.
"Understood Entil'zh, I will just...uh, examine our current status."
"You do that."
Still smiling Susan turned back to her fiancée though that word still hasn't really taken on any meaning yet.
"I see you haven't lost your special touch."
She eyes him warningly; he'd better realise that what took place before was the result certain death assumptions. She wouldn't be losing her head again like that anytime soon.
"Neither have you. Flying through an asteroid field?"
"I can't take any credit. The idea came from Star Wars."
"Of course. Another classic." Her brain is slowly beginning to get itself back into some kind of order though her cheeks don't seem to be cooling anytime soon.
"Well you can't knock this one; we wouldn't be here without it." He gives her the mischievous grin that causes her heart to stumble slightly. Susan... "Funnily enough the couple on that ship managed to get into a situation pretty similar to the one we're in now."
"What? Engaged?"
The truth of the phrase suddenly hits her like a rock and her fists clench automatically.
"We're engaged!"
She walks unsteadily over to the window under the pretence of checking for anymore Raider ships; thoughts immediately thrown back into turmoil. Marcus follows – a bounce in him step. Damn that man.
It's not that she objects to the idea of...marriage. Not to him anyway. If she's given time she'll probably reconnect with that previous euphoria.
But that's what she'd like: time. She wants to consider this; she would have liked to consider before the proposal come to think of it.
"You don't have to sound quite so disgusted." He eyes her fists. "Or look quite so furious – most people consider this a happy occasion."
"You proposed to me in the middle of a battle!"
Marcus scans the unregistering horizon. "Well I can't take credit for that idea either; I stole it off an old historical film about pirating in the Caribbean. Fascinating time period by the way." He glances down at her, eyes enquiring. "Interesting, I didn't think you'd be worried about conventionality –unless you want me to ask again?"
"If you value your head at this moment – then use it."
The words are more intense than she intends and his eyebrows quirk in reply. Susan bites her tongue in frustration, calming herself with deep, even breaths, finger slowly unlocking.
If she can just establish how to deal with this then life might take on some form of understandable shape; unprecedented situations are her forte after all, this should be going better.
"Right then..." A hint of worry has entered Marcus's tone despite the chiding gaze.
"Susan, I didn't mean to pressure you." She hears him swallow deeply; here he went – all selfless and sensitive again.
"I have been trying to work out when to ask for days – hence the ring – but the time never seemed right. I know, procrastination, a human habit but just now I wasn't sure if either of us would get out alive and the decision was made for me."
He looks at her again, steady and serious. "If you more time to think; I know how much you hate surprises despite your claims; then that's fine.
Susan sighs in deep frustration. Why does he have to be so damn noble all the time? Let alone the echoing her exact thoughts ability; weren't they meant to have been married for at least fifty years before he could do that?
More time. Of course Marcus would offer that to her; he'd offer anything for her.
Susan looked at the ring again: it felt comfortable, natural – if she was superstitious (which she wasn't despite the Russian blood), she could say that was a sign it was meant to be there.
Probably Marcus had just secretly measured her finger width one night; nothing more.
Her gaze drifted; sweeping the darkened sky with the spotted asteroid field already fading away in the distance, back to the ring winking like tiger's eyes (she had seen tigers once; interesting experience) and finally trailing up to Marcus's face.
She could have all the time in the world and her answer would still be the same.
Completely on its own accord her hand whispered up to his cheek, not quite cupping it just –resting. A reminder.
"Don't think you're getting rid of me that easily." Susan drew her eyebrows together masking the aforesaid soaring sensation rising to her throat. "When you ask a woman a question like that you have face the consequences."
The joy that flooded Marcus's own eyes was so powerful she was surprised it didn't burn straight through her.
"Well then," he said, accent oddly emphasises as it always was in these situations. "I suppose I'll have to go through with this then."
Susan smiled as his arms pressed to her back; warm against her shoulder blades, slowly drawing her closer.
"I suppose you will."
Somehow she was sure they could both deal with this consequence.