Chapter 23 (Jeffrey Sinclair)

It had only been hours since the entire city had fallen into a state of panic, caused by the accident that had propelled it into the depths of hyperspace. But somehow, the Vanguard Marcus Cole had managed to discover the metropolis and arrive safely onboard.

Equipped with his Vanguard training and ability to issue decisive orders, he was able to activate the colossal engines that rested on the outer edges of the city and steer it back into the center of the beacon net.

Sinclair looked out through the building's windows at the cheering crowds below, waiting for a chance to see their savior. Even the young ladies clamored at the front of the crowd to offer their support for the new Vanguard. Sinclair was more than certain that Marcus would enjoy his time here. After all, what young female could resist the charms of this individual? Marcus could have them, for all Sinclair cared. He was glad to have a Vanguard around. After the last one had been captured by the damn Minbari, it had taken several months for them to send a new one. He preferred not to lose this one.

"Sinclair, It looks like everything's complete and we are slowly drifting back into the center of the beacon net." Marcus strolled over with his hands clasped behind his back; he appeared cheerful, as always. So far Sinclair had not seen him angry or upset. Must be a very content man.

"Fine, Fine," Sinclair responded.

"Tell me, Sinclair." Marcus appeared excited about something. "I've been receiving rather colorful remarks from someone called Susan Ivanova. She's called me so many names I've never heard of before that I don't understand how a woman like that could command her own ship."

"Ahh, Susan Ivanova. I've done some business with her in the past. Quite a good person, once you get past her outer shell."

"I see. Well, I'll make a note to see her once we arrive at the anchor point." Marcus studied his data tablet and then continued, "We should be there within a few hours."

Sinclair turned towards the windows and looked out over the skyline. The swirling clouds of hyperspace were filtered through the shield and transformed into a tranquility of whites and blues that pleased the eye. The exposure to the constant redness of hyperspace would drive anyone insane and the ability to filter colors using the shield-light frequency was ingenious.

But the day had dragged on for a long time and his shift was almost over. Sinclair would often take his long walk in the local park when the city's nighttime cycle began to kick in. But Marcus was reluctant to take the credit for the city's rescue and the last thing Sinclair wanted was to confront the hordes of people that would follow him everywhere.

"Why don't you want the credit, Marcus? Everyone would love to see the Vanguard that saved them." Sinclair allowed a smile to tug on the corners of his cheeks. "There're young ladies that would be willing to show their thanks in more ways than one."

Marcus responded with a dull smile and slowly sank into the darkness that lingered in the corner.

"I'm not one of those people that seek out fame and fortune, Sinclair. I just want to help the human race in any way that I can and perhaps find my missing family lost somewhere in hyperspace."

"Your family?" asked Sinclair.

"That's correct. My parents to be precise. They were trying to escape a Minbari pursuit when they wandered off the hyperspace beacon. The last thing I was told was that their small ship was never to be seen again."

Marcus walked over to the nearest chair and sat down. He placed the data pad onto the desk and went into more detail. "Hyperspace can engulf any ship it wants to, like being in the depths of hell. Eddy streams and storms can toss a vessel in so many directions that the onboard computer can't keep track of the standard beacons. If that wasn't enough to frighten you, then imagine being in hyperspace with just an EV suit."

As if he was telling a ghost story at a campfire, Sinclair saw some of the workers pause what they were doing and listen with burning ears.

"Wearing an EV suit can be one of the most rewarding or horrifying experience anyone can have. In hyperspace, the burning clouds of hell surround you. When they look down, there is no ground, it's just clouds that churn and stir below your feet. It's endless. It's the same in all directions. But the most chilling experience is…falling."

Sinclair tugged on his collar; the experience was very real for him. Memories of the arid landscape that was hyperspace flooded back, the moment his Star Fury had become stranded from the rest of the fleet that escaped Earth over ten years ago. Thankfully a lone trading vessel had picked up his distress calls, but the haunting memories of hyperspace still lingered in the deepest recesses of his mind.

"Every now and then, in the hyperspace eddy cluster, I can detect the faint echoes of a distress signal. I am always hopeful that it's my family's vessel, but I've never been able to venture close. Hyperspace contains countless souls and ships that drift for infinity and…"

Caught up in Marcus's idle ramblings, one of the workers accidentally knocked over his coffee into the console.

Suddenly, as if a switch had been flicked, the outside light began to fade away and Sinclair began to hear the hissing of rain on the windowpanes. He turned and the water droplets obscured his panoramic view of the city.

Marcus stood up and walked over to the windows, "It's a bit odd to activate the city's rain cycle now. Are you trying to piss off the cheering crowd below, old chap?"

Sinclair thought for a moment, then strolled over to the window. Perhaps the Vanguard was right in his assumption; the accidental rain would make them go home.

Then he remembered the worker who spilled his drink over his console.

"Your ghost stories caused this poor guy to spill his drink all over his work station," he said, smiling and patting the worker on the shoulder to reassure him. "He probably accidentally started the rain cycle. It doesn't matter, the crowd should dissipate and go home." Sinclair looked out at the scampering people, listening to the incomprehensible hum of their voices far below him. The pavements turned brown and the foliage began to glitter under the light from the shield.

Within moments the rain came down hard, belting at the window, streaming off the roofs and pouring down drains. Streets were cleaned and the stale air that lingered over the city began to clear up. But that did not stop the normal operations of the city.

As the hours ticked past, the city slowly drifted back into place and the sudden rush of transports flooded the entrance gates to offload their goods and refuel for other missions. Some were just glad to be back at home, other were ecstatic that they weren't lost in hyperspace. But for Sinclair, the nighttime that rolled over the city was the moment he'd been waiting for.

Sinclair had no idea if it was really night or day, every city abided by their own daytime pattern. It was a normal twenty-four hour timescale, but each city set its own time zones. Most new cities would set their clocks to the day they were launched into hyperspace. Since the shield controlled the light from hyperspace, it was down to the city's commanding officer.

But this didn't matter to Sinclair. This was his moment, a moment he could relax and let the chaotic day pass. After all, the city had almost been lost today.

The rain washed all the impurities from the atmosphere, another successful operation of the aqua jets in the middle of the lake. The shield of the city no longer provided daylight, but instead allowed a dazzling display of blue curling clouds through the idle darkness. Sinclair strolled over to a bench that overlooked over the entire park, sat down and marveled at the entire view. The shrinking and expansion of the shields created high and low points in different sectors that allowed a cool breeze of air through the commander's hair. It reminded Sinclair of a fresh warm summer downpour on Earth.

The night arrived at its scheduled time. The park's main path snaked its way through the inky darkness, like a sacred river through the depths of an ancient forest. Flowers that blossomed in the daylight still offered their enchanting scent, which wafted on the wind around the spots of greenery and humid gardens lit up by lanterns and streetlights. It was a miracle of creation, a marvel Sinclair was proud of.

He sighed faintly and then was interrupted by a distant voice.

"Do you know that when you sigh, your happiness escapes with it?"

Sinclair turned towards the voice. The sentence in itself was confusing but he recognized who it was as he watched the figure come into focus.

"Sinclair, what a coincidence to see you again. I trust you managed to escape the lynch mob after the little mishap with the weather." Marcus strolled over to Sinclair's bench and stood under a spotlight that lit the area in a warm yellow glow.

"Marcus…I'm surprised to see you here. Is your apartment not to your satisfaction?" Sinclair could not understand why not. It was the best place in that particular building, which was reserved for high-ranking officials and Vanguards.

"No, everything's perfect."

"So, what do I owe the pleasure?" Stood Sinclair.

"Just out for a stroll, like you. I must say, this park looks impressive. I've never seen anything so peaceful, yet it holds an enchanting richness that I can't quite understand."

"That would be the scent from the plants. We had them imported from a distant world. They release a fragrance that relaxes the human mind. Very important in a time of war," Sinclair said.

Marcus looked towards the park, enjoying the fresh air. After a few minutes, he finally spoke. "There is one question that I would like to ask."

"Go on."

"That delightful character Susan has just landed her vessel in one of the loading bays and I overheard her saying that she's heading to the trading post. Could you direct me there?"

"Why?"

Sinclair didn't know what he was playing at, but from his initial interest it seemed he was interested in her. Why, the commander didn't know, but he felt Marcus would be getting himself into trouble.

"She looks like an interesting woman. I would like to meet her." Marcus smiled. "I've never seen anyone with such a serious face before. Perhaps I might be able to change her negative attitude."

"I'd stay away from her. She can be more trouble than she's worth. But I know you're going to ignore my warning anyway, so ask the computer. It will guide you to where you want to go."

Marcus moved closer to Sinclair and his playful persona disappeared. "Before I left the city's control center, I thought I saw an unknown vessel in hyperspace, approaching the city. It did look vaguely familiar, but it could be my fatigue playing around with my eyes." Marcus handed over a small device, which opened into a holographic data pad that displayed some sensor readouts and red hyperspace clouds. Nothing noticeable was seen, but Sinclair took the data pad anyway.

"If my suspicions are correct I have run into this race before. A race that called themselves Volvos."

"Volvo, sounds like a manufacturing company," Sinclair said.

"Well," Marcus replied, dismissing the joke, "Be careful. I heard many rumors about this race, but what confuses me is the Volvos don't normally visit other races. Why would they bother coming here?"

"It's probably nothing but a sensor echo. But I'll look over the reading later back at my apartment. It would be interesting to have first contact with a powerful race that could help up with the Minbari."

"Everybody has their own agenda Sinclair. Still, I best get going, I have a lot of work tomorrow."

Marcus slowly disappeared into the darkness, but Sinclair did not feel alone. He looked around the shadowy darkness for any sign of movement, but saw nothing. Then, after a few moments, his eyes adjusted to a figure in the shadows.

"Hello," he asked, "Can I help you?"

Nothing was said. The figure was large, too large to be a human. Then the haunting tale about the unknown ship flashed into his mind. Could this be an alien life form? It's definitely not Minbari. And why did the alarms fail to go off?

Sinclair stepped back as the figure moved forward. Its movements were not typical of someone walking, more like hovering or rolling. A machine? Sinclair shone the holographic data pad in its direction to light up the darkness and saw a cloaked shape that slithered into view. Then its one eyed head bobbed up and down as it approached Sinclair's bench.

The commander stood motionless, rooted to the spot in fear. He tried to step back, but his legs faltered for no reason. Why can't I move?

As a chill ascended his back, Sinclair heard an emotionless voice call his name.

"Sinclair. You are the one. You must prepare."