She was under arrest? The last traces of sleep were hastily retreating, and in their place came something close to fear. This was it – the crisis she had been waiting for – Sheridan could now hand her over without anyone doubting his integrity.

Lyta cursed her complacency. She should have seen this coming. The incident the night before had screamed set up. She had assumed because she had not deep scanned the man that she had dodged the trap, but maybe they hadn't actually needed her to scan him. After all, if the mundane continued to insist that she had violated his rights it would require another telepath to confirm her innocence. Somehow Lyta doubted that the Psicorp would send someone interested in clearing her name.

In the meantime she was cornered. If she ran then she lost the station, and the Psicops would be free to hunt her in truth. But if she allowed herself to be taken into custody, and her situation was as hopeless as it looked…it could be the equivalent to surrendering to the corps, without even getting the chance to fight.

'This is ludicrous,' Lyta protested hotly, drawing on the anger which was the only thing standing between her and utter panic. 'I insist on legal representation – I have rights, damnit!'

'Didn't seem so bothered by the rights of the folk you scanned' one of the officers muttered under his breath.

'You will get your representation,' promised Zack, glaring the man down. 'But first you need to come with us to lockup. Please don't make this difficult.'

Lyta fixed him with a flat stare. Her every instinct screamed at her to disable this team and make a run for it. She might have done so there and then, if it wasn't Zack who was giving her is word. He is a mundane the voice of her panic insisted, even if he wanted to help, his hands are tied.

But he might be the only thing standing between her and the likes of Bester; could she afford to throw away that chance?

'You mean the sort of difficult that requires a whole armed squadron just to arrest little old me?' she asked him bluntly.

'What I mean is that you are better off with us handling the case and not the Psicops.'

There it was; her fear set out before her. 'Now look here Zack…'

But Zack cut her off. 'No. Enough is enough. Place yourself under arrest voluntarily, or run, but if you do you'd better hope I never catch you.'

She searched his face for a suggestion that he was bluffing, and came up with nothing.

Zack might be willing to carry out a mild flirtation where it did not touch upon his duties, but right now he would treat her as any other potentially dangerous telepath. It came as a surprise to Lyta how much this bothered her.

'I am innocent,' she told him, abruptly.

-And caught a sudden wave of tiredness, which was quickly replaced by the mental recitation of a particularly raunchy pop song.

'Then you understand why we need to take you in, just while we can work out what is going on.'

She sighed. Going with him would allow her to hold on to more options, she reasoned finally. She had seen the brig; it would not hold her. If being reasonable failed she could always escape and at least she would have tried to salvage her life here.

'Can I at least change into something less slept in?'

Her request was rewarded by the fraction of a smile, a glimmer of normality. It gave her hope; if she was released at the end of this misunderstanding, whatever fragile chemistry existed between them might not have been destroyed.

'I will need to wait in the room with you,' he explained, with a hint of awkwardness. She shrugged lightly. After all what was a small indignity compared to what awaited her at the hands of the Psicorp?

'Of course. After all my Vorlon gifted powers of teleportation are well known.'

She offered him a grim smile before entering her room. She was trying to work out what clothing best suggested 'innocent but falsely accused' when she caught a flash of his intent – a syringe which he had concealed in his pocket- but by then it was too late. Her telepathy was no match for his reflexes, and she felt a needle slice into her arm.

'I am sorry Lyta,' he whispered - and he was sorry – she read it clearly before the serum began to work in her bloodstream. Then the thoughts were gone from her, alone with the familiar pressure of minds that usually inhabited the station.

It was as if her head had been thrust underwater; the voices were drowned out, and so was most of the world. The disorientation was absolute, she couldn't see, she couldn't hear, and everything seemed far away. Zack was speaking to her, but the syllables were slurred and irrelevant. It took all her concentration not to fall, and the world around her was reduced to a psychic equivalent of black and white. She managed to get to the sink moments before her stomach revolted. The room spun, and the loss of her sense was a gaping wound inside her head.

She came back to herself in stages. First the nausea dulled, although the unpleasant taste lingered, in her mind as much as her mouth. Then the dizziness abated. She felt as shaky as if she had just recovered from the flue but she could think again; if she could get over the intrusive silence pressing in on her from all angles.

A day ago she might have welcomed such a silence; but that was before the walls began to close in around her. Without her powers she was just another blip – easy prey for men like Bester. -But more than that -the emptiness of it frightened her. It was as if her mind was suddenly far smaller; her thoughts were rattling around with too much space.

Zack was watching her with obvious concern. Well what did he expect? How would he feel if one of us chemically blinded him? She turned away from him – unwilling to face the jolt of pain that his betrayal had caused her. It was easier to focus on the immediate concerns than consider the fact that she had just lost her only ally.

She held it together for long enough to pick out an outfit- a uniform which flattered her shape, but in a business-like manner. It was the look which she had cultivated, back when she was part of the corp, and impressing clients was her biggest concern. Now it would serve as her armour; a persona she would need to assume if she was to get through the coming ordeal. There was nothing Lyta could do if Sheridan decided to hand her over, and she accepted that, as terrifying as that realisation was. But she would face whatever came as Lyta Alexander and not some ragged stereotype of a rogue telepath.

Sweeping past Zack – she had not spoken a word to him since the shock of his betrayal had started to sink in – she turned to face the security team. 'Lead on,' she suggested with a bleak smile. There was some advantage to being arrested at night, she supposed, if it meant that her arrest was not witnessed by the whole station. There were still onlookers… a place like Babylon 5 was never entirely empty, but if they had an opinion on her situation they kept it to themselves.

The cell they brought her to was not uncomfortable, although there was an unfinished quality to it that reminded her of her quarters under the second 'Kosh'. She took the only seat, and fixed her gaze pointedly on the wall.

Zack cleared his throat. The guards had retreated to their other duties, obviously having decided that the serum would hold her, and the two of them were left alone. She was rather satisfied to feel him flinch under the ice of her expression.

'I can arrange for someone to represent you' he offered, uncomfortably. 'In cases like this it would be normal for it to be a member of the Corps, but given the circumstances…' he hesitated again '-if you don't have a preference I can make sure that whoever they appoint…'

'I do have a preference,' she told him coolly. It was the strategy which she had been working on during the walk from her quarters. The only course of action she could think of that might help her at this stage.

'I want to speak with Mr Garibaldi.'

For someone who had a troubled past with alcohol – Zack mused – the former security chief had certainly picked an interesting choice of office. Dodging a drunken alien (and stepping in something unmentionable in the process) Zack swung himself into the seat opposite his former employer.

'Nice place you've got here,' he commented, gesturing expansively at what was quite possibly the seediest bar in down below. 'I particularly like the décor.'

Garibaldi cracked his Cheshire smile. 'What can I say – it appeals to my client base.'

'Well I think I have part of your client base attached to my shoe,' Zack gestured to the unmentionable stain now oozing faintly through the sole of his left boot.

Garibaldi's grin widened. 'It matches your personality,' he offered. 'Nut?'

'No thanks!' Zack shuddered mildly; the food in down below gave him the creeps. Not to mention the fact that he was getting some downright unfriendly looks from around the room; this was not the sort of place where security personnel were welcome. Of course none of this stopped Garibaldi looking perfectly at home.

Zack had been taken aback by the other man's resignation when it had come, completely out of the blue, three weeks ago. To tell the truth he wasn't sure what to make of it even now. He hadn't figured Garibaldi for the quitting type, but then war changed people. If a couple of years ago someone had told Zack that he would one day be the head of security for anything bigger than a cupboard on mars he would have called them crazy, but here he was. -Mostly because of the actions of the man who sat opposite him choosing a nut with a meticulous precision which bordered on ridicule.

Garibaldi had been willing to give him a chance when no sane employer would have, and that was a debt he would always carry. More than that, the other man was a friend – a damn good one. If anyone was shrewd enough to see a way out of this telepath dilemma it would be him and Zack had to believe he would. He was not sure he could live with himself if he were part of the reason Lyta was handed over to someone like Bester.

'Listen, I need a favour.'

'I'm all ears.'

Zack hesitated.

'I just arrested Lyta. She insists that she's innocent, but there are several witnesses that corroborate the vic's account; that she scanned him illegally, and threatened to do worse. We have her in the brig, and we've tried to keep it on the low, but it's only a matter of time before someone leaks it to the Psicorp, if they haven't already.

'I hope she has a good lawyer.'

'Actually that would be the favour. She is asking for you to represent her.'

Garibaldi frowned. 'Did she do it?'

Zack frowned. 'I can't imagine her attacking anyone, but there are several witnesses to a confrontation, one of whom swears he heard her threaten him. Now I've got my suspicions; there is something awfully convenient about the timing, what with Psicorp breathing down our necks about harbouring a rogue. Sheridan will do what he can, but he doesn't have that much pull back home these days, and Earthgov is getting edgy. I am worried if we can't do something soon it could get real nasty really quick.'

Garibaldi nodded thoughtfully.

'I knew a lawyer once - condescending bastard... I will talk to her, and see what I can search up on the witness. If it's an Earth job there might be someone willing to talk, but if its Psicorp…'

Zack nodded wearily. Something told him that the odds were against them on this one, but he could not think of a better ally.

'I should go – the commander will want an update.'

Garibaldi nodded.

He watched Zack leave with a thoughtful expression. There had been no doubt in his mind that the younger man was the correct choice of successor, and so far he seemed to be handling it well enough. There was already a confidence to him which had been absent before, and his past performance indicated the sort of adaptability that was essential to survive on a place like Babylon 5.

As for the telepath crisis…it was bad luck, but hardly unexpected. That situation had been threatening to erupt since the station had re-joined earthforce. Part of Garibaldi was surprised that it had taken so long to boil over. -Earthgov must have held back in the early weeks so as not to risk losing the station again.

But that sort of fragile truce seldom lasted, particularly when the teep in question was powerful enough to pose a significant threat to earth security. No, he could not imagine the notoriously paranoid president being happy with such an arrangement. And then there was the Psicorp. Too much of their power came from being the only option for telepaths- the existence of a rogue of Lyta's prominence would challenge too much of what they stood for – they could not afford to leave her alone.

And that brought back memories of another commercial telepath; a woman classy enough to win him over despite his prejudices against her kind. She had fallen afoul of the Corp and he had not needed Bester's *accidental* slip to know it had ended badly for her. Now Lyta was no Talia. But she was still alright for a teep, and she had played a bigger part in winning the war against the shadows than most. She didn't deserve to go down for a crime she had not committed, especially when the fate that awaited her was grimmer than any prison sentence. So he would help her if he could, although he was realistic enough to know what a big if that was.

Zack Allen was no stranger to making difficult choices. He had done things in that time before Babylon 5 had turned his life around, things he wasn't proud of. But none of them had ever felt like this.

The sleepers had been the captain's idea; back when they had re-joined Earthforce and Sheridan needed to convince his critics back home that Lyta Alexander was not a dangerous loose cannon. They had been the work of Doctor Franklin; a modification on the traditional sleepers that enabled them to block even an enhanced telepath.

That had not made it easier.

Sheridan was speaking animatedly to one of the senators when Zack knocked gently on the open door.

'I cannot overstate that. Yes of course. No I understand. Of course; as long as you can buy me. I appreciate it. And to you, Senator.' He terminated the call with a frown, and his face seemed to age ten years in the time it took to turn to Zack.

'Tell me you have good news.'

Zack shrugged. 'We have Lyta in custody, and the sleepers were successful, although the side effects appeared more pronounced than expected.'

Sheridan nodded. His hand was pressed to his temple as if to ward off a headache, and Zack was reminded that he wasn't the only one functioning on little to no sleep.

'I am afraid that's unavoidable. She needs to be blocked, it's the only way we can delay turning her over. I am going to insist that the incident occurred on the station and the investigation should take place here as well.'

'Will that work?'

'In the long term probably not- but it might buy us some time to get to the bottom of this, and my hope is we can get the charges against her lifted before they can make us give her up.'

Zack nodded. That was what he had expected, but somehow he had hoped that the Captain had something more fool proof in mind. The coward in Zack wanted to leave it at that, but he could not get the expression of betrayal out of his head. He owed it to her to face the consequences of his actions, however necessary they had seemed.

'And if we can't?'

The look Sheridan turned on him was bleak.

'I have a responsibility for this station, and all the people on it. The situation is just starting to get back to normal, and people won't want to disrupt that. Telepaths aren't all that popular at the moment, and now that the accusations against her seem serious most people will want to see it handled by the Corps.'

'They will kill her.'

The captain did not bother to deny it. 'And I will do everything in my power to see that it doesn't come to that. In the meantime…'

Whatever the captain had to say was cut out by a beeping from his comm. 'Yes,' he asked with a trace of impatience.

'Sorry to bother you captain, but I thought you needed to know. Bester just arrived on the station and he is asking to speak to you as soon as possible.'