From fmlecou@mailbox.syr.eduSat Dec 30 16:29:08 1995 Date: Wed, 27 Dec 1995 03:42:29 -0500 (EST) From: "Felicia M. Le Cou" Reply to: b5-creative@blob.best.net To: b5-creative@blob.best.net Subject: Be Careful What You Wish For, Part 1 Be Careful What You Wish For By Felicia Le Cou fmlecou@mailbox.syr.edu Part 1 Delenn regarded the shabbily dressed human. Curiously, one moment she had been contemplating her choices over the past year. She wondered if she might have accomplished more, much quicker, by accepting the Grey Council's leadership offer a year ago. She wondered this because, at the moment, she didn't feel confident that destiny supported her side. Ambassador Kosh's decision ordering Delenn's submission to an Inquisitor unnerved her. The uneasy prelude to the test pried open her heart, letting self-doubt enter, seed, and grow. During the wait it grew exponentially. And the next moment there was a flash, and this man stood before her. No explanation, no apology for invading her privacy. Nothing. He appeared elderly, somehow familiar in an unfamiliar way. His clothes were dingy and threadbare, his white hair needed a good combing and was specked with dirt. Also, Delenn wasn't always good at interpreting human hygiene, but if anyone asked her she would say he needed a good shave. The most puzzling item about this odd human was his greeting-- it made the least amount of sense. "I'm here to grant your Christmas wish." "Excuse me?" Delenn asked, unsure what her unasked visitor was talking about. Christmas was a human holiday, not one that all humans shared, and was still at least two weeks in the future. Delenn didn't think her chronometer read the wrong date. "Okay, I'm here to grant your Hanukkah wish." Delenn continued to stare, blank-faced. Hanukkah was also a human holiday. "I don't understand, what are--?" ""Well, I'm here to grant your wish. That is that. In fact, I've already granted it. By the way, my name is Clarence." The small man straightened up, shuffling his feet as if hoping his pant leggings would unbunch. He seemed to be waiting for some kind of recognition. When Delenn failed to respond, Clarence sighed. "Okay, Okay. I was trying to keep as close to the prewrite as possible. But I guess I'll have to drop my script since you don't seem to know what's going on. Most humans would have caught on by now." Delenn tilted her head to one side, frowning. "Catch what? Are you planning to throw a ball?" Clarence sighed, his frustration beginning to show. "No," he said, shaking his head, "Catch on to the fact that I'm here to help you." "But WHY," Delenn didn't understand who this Clarence was or how he could possibly help her. What she must do in the coming test, she must do alone. "Well, it's like this," Clarence seated himself on a chair. "I need to pass my wing recertification and when your wish was heard at Angel Central they sent me out. My superiors think I've been lax the last couple of hundred years; they said when my movie came out, the fame went straight to my head. So I have to help you see what the world, universe, or Babylon 5 in this case, is like now that you are no longer a part of it." Clarence pulled out a pair of sunglasses and began rubbing them with a dingy rag. "Any more questions?" he asked, but Delenn finally had enough. The human must be delusional. And although he didn't look dangerous, one could never be certain of these things. He probably should be in MedLab, right this moment. Delenn darted to the room's communications screen. "Security," she spoke, but there wasn't any answer. "I'm sorry, Delenn, but by granting your wish I'm afraid you've been, uh, cut off from the normal workings of your quarters." Clarence folded up the rag and placed it in his jacket's front pocket. "Actually," he continued, "the only reason you perceive your quarters at all is because I have preserved them, temporarily." Delenn didn't bother to respond before walking to the door of her quarters. "Open," she told the room's computer. The door didn't open. She pulled open the small side-panel that hosted the manual override and yanked the handle down. The door groaned open-- But the only thing on the other side was a starscape. No corridor, no people, no station. Just empty, open space with stars twinkling coldly from the distance. Yet no vacuum was created. Delenn did not get blown out of her quarters with the escaping air. No air escaped. She stepped back from the door, allowing it to shut with her still in the room. "Shall we talk, now?" Clarence asked. "Are you the Inquisitor?" Delenn asked, stunned. Could this be the one who Kosh sent to test her? "Naw!" Clarence waved his hand in negating motion. "I'm your guardian angel, at least for this assignment. You wished that you accepted some councilman's award a year ago, right? Well, I'm here to show you what life in the B5 Universe is like now that you are there instead of here, do I make sense?" "No, not really." "Darnit," Clarence started checking his pockets. "I know I have those notes here somewhere." He patted his pockets some more. Finally, he pulled out a crumpled piece of newsprint. "Ah, here it is. Let's see, about a year ago, you accepted...oh right, the leadership to the Grey Council, which runs the whole Minbari she- bang. Well, anyway, you left Babylon 5 before you had a chance to go through your...uh...metamorphosis, and before the time-line is set in place, part of the Christmas Wish Service is to show you how people were affected, or not affected, by you leaving." "You are delusional," Delenn replied. How could this human possibly know what she may have done or almost did a year ago. Clarence stood up, placed his sunglasses on his face, and waved toward the door that Delenn just tried to exit through. "C'mon, I can prove what I say. But we need to hurry. I have to be a few places once you get started, and we absolutely have to wrap this up in a few days if I'm to make my recertification deadline." Clarence waved open the door, revealing the normal Babylon 5 corridor beyond it. Delenn started towards the door, planning on going straight to Mr. Garibaldi for allowing this human anywhere near the ambassadorial wing, but before she made it out the door, Clarence waved it shut. "Oh dear, that will not do," Clarence said. "What!" Delenn demanded. "Pipe down! You sound way to tense..." Clarence slowly walked around Delenn's backside, looking her up and down. "This, this will never do. This dress...will attract way too much attention." Delenn looked down at herself. She wore a variation of the outfit she traditionally wore. A deep purple gown with a light colored ankle-length over-vest. "What is wrong with my clothes, this is what I always wear. They are less offending than yours." "Yes, true, but no one but YOU can see me, my dear, and since you aren't the Minbari Ambassador anymore, this dress will attract too much attention, especially if you're to pass as a human woman." "Why would I want to do that?" "Because, you never went through your change. No one here knows you as you are now. Go change." Clarence crossed his arms, waiting for Delenn to say something. Mutely she walked to the door to her inner chamber. Turning back to Clarence to ensure that he made no move in her direction (he still stood by the main entrance), she slipped inside her sleeping area. Why am I bothering to do this, she asked herself as she perused her wardrobe. He doesn't want her to attract attention, but people would recognize her no matter what she wore, surely. "Hurry up in there," Clarence called out. When Delenn reemerged she was more appropriately attired in a simple green dress with a vee neckline. "Better," Clarence commented. "Let's get going." He waved the door open again and followed Delenn into the corridor. Delenn started towards the Security office. She figured if Clarence wanted to follow her all the way there, then he could go right ahead and follow. "Wait," Clarence halted her by grabbing her arm. He had surprising strength for a human of his age, and Delenn was forced to stop. "What now?" Delenn asked. "Your hair, it's all wrong," Clarence pointed to her head. "What is that, that, head thing anyway? And, can you take it off, or something?" "I most certainly can NOT!" Delenn replied. "Okay, okay, well, we can deal with this," Clarence waved his hand in a flutter motion over the top of Delenn's head, and she felt her hair lift off the back of her neck. "Okay, that will do. Just remember to keep your hair pinned up and you'll be fine. See?" Clarence produced a small mirror from one of his seemingly endless pockets. Delenn viewed herself. Interesting, somehow her hair got wrapped neatly around her boneset in some kind of elaborate twist. Her bangs remained free, and the very front edges of the boneset were visible, but if she wanted to conceal them she could easily wisp some bangs into place. "Okay, that's good." Clarence took the mirror from Delenn and slipped it back into a pocket. Then something started beeping. Delenn's eyes widened in alarm, but Clarence seemed nonplussed. He started patting his pockets once again. He pulled out a small rectangular black box with a LCD display on one end. "Darn! I'm late!" Clarence stuffed the object back into his pocket and pulled out a small handbag. Delenn narrowed her eyes, he couldn't possibly have had it in the pocket he pulled it from, it simply wasn't small enough for her not to have noticed it. "Here, this is for you. Your identi-card. Your name is Lena Maguere. Your credit chit, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. The deal is that you can look around and see what's going on. But don't talk to anyone, or else I'll be held responsible. Can you do that?" Clarence started fading from sight. "Wait, what...where are you going?" Delenn called out, uncertain why she felt panic rise in her. Clarence faded back in, looking rushed. "You're on your own for a while, okay? Technically, I'm not supposed to leave, but I'll pick you up in two days. You see, there's an Angel convention on the Vorlon homeworld that I just have to attend. I'm supposed to sign some original film stock for the archives and give a speech. You know how it is...." Clarence faded back out of sight. To be continued in the next post. . . . Copyright by Felicia Le Cou. All Rights Reserved, save for those already owned by others. Please send comments to fmlecou@mailbox.syr.edu. Happy Holidays! From fmlecou@mailbox.syr.eduSat Dec 30 16:29:10 1995 Date: Wed, 27 Dec 1995 03:43:35 -0500 (EST) From: "Felicia M. Le Cou" Reply to: b5-creative@blob.best.net To: b5-creative@blob.best.net Subject: Be Careful What You Wish For, Part 2 Be Careful What You Wish For By Felicia Le Cou fmlecou@mailbox.syr.edu Part 2 Five minutes later Delenn still stood in the corridor. *Did I just imagine this?* she asked herself. She must have. Although, she couldn't quite explain how her hair got into its current position. She was stressed, feeling pressure due to the approaching test. Yes, she must have.... Delenn shook her head, she had to focus, to meditate. If she entered into the test during her current frame of mind she would surely fail. Still holding the handbag, which was the shade of green that matched her dress, Delenn decided to simply return to her quarters. Things felt wrong, and she hoped that it was simply her anxiety threatening to take over. She returned to her quarters, but. . .the door didn't open when she entered her lock code. Frowning, she entered it again. Nothing. She would have to contact the security office after all. But just as she was about to leave she thought she heard Lennier's voice from within. He was speaking to another. It must be time for the test, and Delenn did not feel sufficiently prepared. She rang the door chime. "Lennier, my door code is not working...." Delenn's voice trailed off as she observed Lennier's surprised reaction at seeing her. He also seemed...different. He seemed more worried than he usually did. "May I help you?" her aid asked formally. "Lennier, I can't get my door code to work, and--" Lennier shook his head, "I apologize, but, do I know you?" Delenn looked back and forth in the corridor, looking for Clarence or some other evidence that she was just dreaming. No one, nothing. She looked back at Lennier. "It's me," she told him. "Lennier, who is there," called a gruff sounding voice from behind. Delenn's eyes widened, "Neroon," she said. "Did you have an appointment with Ambassador Neroon," Lennier asked solicitously. "Because if you do, I'm afraid I don't have it in the schedule. When did you--" "Lennier, who is it?" "Or, perhaps you should just come in," Lennier said, moving away from the door. Delenn stepped into her quarters, but noted that nothing in the room could be considered hers. And what was Neroon doing here, anyway? "What are you doing here?" Delenn demanded as soon as Neroon turned from the processing unit he was working on to her. His eyes widened in surprise, perhaps shock. Delenn couldn't be sure, but he was not expecting to see her, that was for certain. "What business is it of yours, human," Neroon glared openly at Lennier, Lennier averted his eyes. "Why, it's every business of mine. If you were scheduled to arrive, I should have been informed!" Delenn really wasn't surprised that he called her human, she knew that many Minbari considered her such. Neroon stood, "What do you mean, you should have been informed?--" Lennier interceded, "Perhaps, perhaps this was a mistake. Ma'am, we can reschedule--" "--NO," Neroon cut Lennier off. "I want to know who you are, and how you got access to the ambassadorial wing?" "I don't understand," Delenn's disorientation grew. These events didn't make logical sense. "Who *are* you?" Neroon demanded. "I am Delenn, as you know very well, Star Rider!" "Lennier, contact security immediately," Neroon commanded, darting forward to grab Delenn's forearm, preventing escape. When the security team arrived Neroon shoved Delenn roughly towards them. "This woman is causing a disturbance. See that she's dealt with." "Of course, Ambassador Neroon," said the taller of the two men. "And find out how she got access to this wing; I expect a report within 24 standard hours." The second guard tugged on Delenn's already sore arm. She let him lead her out of her quarters--no, out of Neroon's quarters. As the doors shut she locked eyes with Lennier, silently pleading with him to recognize her, who she was, even if in this reality she wasn't on the station. But why wouldn't Lennier recognize her? Even if he had never seen her after entering Chrysalis, shouldn't he recognize her? Wouldn't he? But the door closed, with Lennier on the other side. Who on the station would know her, if Lennier didn't? "I need to speak with Captain Sheridan," Delenn told her escorts. "I don't think so, Ma'am. Not until--" "Please, it's very important," Delenn insisted. "Wait," Lennier's voice stopped the security team. Lennier approached them. "I think this was all a misunderstanding..." "Lennier?" Delenn asked, hoping that he recognized her after all. "...I'm sorry," Lennier patted Delenn's half outstretched hand apologetically. "I know that you think you know me, but I don't know you. Satai Delenn is on Minbar." To the security guards he said, "Please make sure she gets to MedLab. This woman is experiencing some kind of disorientation. If you anyone asks you, then you may say that it was my decision. No harm has been done; I see no reason for any trouble." +++ "Hello, Ms. Maguere," Dr. Franklin smiled at Delenn. She sat on an examining table. The security team had already left. "I understand you are experiencing some disorientation and confusion, can you tell me about it?" Delenn started to speak, then hesitated. Clarence did insist that she shouldn't tell people. If Neroon was in her quarters, and others seemed to confirm that Delenn did indeed leave Babylon 5 a year ago, then she must assume that the rest of what Clarence told her was true also. She would just wait for the odd little man to return from 'Angel Central' or wherever he was really from and then she would be established in the new time-line. The first thing she would do: fire Neroon. "I'd like to see Captain Sheridan, please?" "Do you know the Captain?" Franklin peered at the scanner display, then shut it off. "Yes...I'm pretty sure I do." "Are you experiencing memory lapse? I heard that there was some confusion with the Minbari delegation, something about you thinking you were Ambassador Delenn?" "Yes," Delenn said, then clenched her jaw shut. Franklin called up Delenn's record, no, he called up Lena Maguere's record on a display. "Your name is Lena Maguere. You are 33 standard years old. According to your records, You're here for a meeting of the Interstellar Technology Association. Now, Lena, I understand that sometimes stress can take over your life, but there are other ways you can deal with--" "No, my name is NOT Lena!" Delenn couldn't keep from speaking any longer. "I am Ambassador Delenn of the Minbari Federation, and somehow, somehow the time-line was changed, and now no one here recognizes me." "You know, our resident telepath, Talia Winters, might be able to help you with your memory and disorientation. Because sooner or later, you need to realize that you aren't the Minbari Ambassador. You're human, after all." "Talia Winters? Talia Winters is here?" Delenn asked, horrified. But how could that be? When Lyta Alexander came to the station she uncovered Talia Winters as a spy with an Artificial Personality. "Yes, would you like me to contact her now?" "But, what about Lyta Alexander? Wasn't she here?" "Did you know Lyta as well?" Franklin asked, moving towards the communications panel. "I guess there's no easy way to tell you this then, Lyta Alexander was accidently killed three weeks ago during an incident. I'm sorry. Perhaps Talia Winters can tell you more when. . . ." Delenn didn't wait for Dr. Franklin to even finish his sentence. As soon as he turned to the communications panel to place his call to Talia Winters, Delenn slipped off the examining table and escaped from MedLab. As the humans would say, to HELL with Clarence and his stupid rules. If he was so concerned about her talking to people then he would have stuck around while she made her observations. Really, the only way she was going to find out what was going on is if she asked. And she intended to find Captain Sheridan and ask him right away. Delenn arrived at Sheridan's door and rang the chime. "Captain, Captain Sheridan!" Delenn spoke to the door. "Captain, I need to speak to you!" The door hissed open. "Can I help you?" "Who are you?" Delenn asked, frowning. "I'm Captain Sheridan. Captain Anna Sheridan." The woman resembled the picture Captain Sheridan once showed her, but.... "I don't understand, where's John. John Sheridan?" Anna Sheridan brushed a strand of light brown hair away from her face, then stepped backwards. "I think you had better come in, then." Delenn stepped into the room. The room was different just as her own quarters were different. The furniture slightly changed, the wall decorations changed. "Who are you," Anna stated in near monotone. "How do you know John?" "I'm...I'm Delenn, a friend..." Anna scrutinized Delenn skeptically, crossing her arms. "I was his wife for over fifteen years, and I don't recall your face. Wait a minute. You said your name was Delenn? That's the former Minbari Ambassador...I don't think so. You're human, and Delenn's on Minbar, or so I understand." "WAS his wife?" Something in Delenn's stomach pained her. She didn't like where this conversation was going. "John disappeared over six months ago. . .he was never found. Not a word, no wreckage, nothing." "That can't be, John was just here. He--" "I'm sorry if this comes as a shock; but I think you should leave now. Open," Anna told the room's computer, the door opened. "But, this can't be," panic rose to Delenn's throat. "How can this be. You can't really be Anna Sheridan, you can't!" "Please leave. You have about two seconds before I call security." "But Anna Sheridan *died* on board the Icarus three in a half years ago!" "Sheridan to Garibaldi," Anna spoke coldly into her link. "Mr. Garibaldi, I need someone removed from my quarters--IF you can unglue your face from the Casino floor?" "Yes, Ma'am. I'll be right there." +++ Garibaldi took another long drink as soon as he finished speaking into the link. He even waited until lunch hour before going to the bar, and he still got interrupted. "When did I become her personal assistant?" Garibaldi griped. "When?" Garibaldi finished his drink, then ordered his check. "That will be 300 credits, Mr. Garibaldi." Ouch, Garibaldi winced, then pulled out his credit chip. "Mr. Garibaldi," his drinking companion, Ambassador Londo Mollari, spoke up. "Please, allow me the courtesy of paying. You can get the drinks next time." "Thanks Londo," Garibaldi put his credit chip away and pulled himself up off his stool. "I figure you need ALL your resources when dealing with that. . .woman," explained Mollari. Garibaldi laughed. That was funny in an unfunny sort of way. Every time the thought of Anna Sheridan even crossed his mind he felt compelled to take a drink. And since they were both on the same space station, he felt compelled to drink a lot lately. "No comment. See you in about an hour. Same bar; same seats." "Its a date," Mollari raised his glass in farewell. "Hurry back!" As Garibaldi exited the casino, he half-hoped that the station would blow to pieces before reaching *Captain* Sheridan's quarters. He wondered what her problem was this time. Seemed like not a day went by without her getting into a snit over something or other. But before Garibaldi quite reached Sheridan's quarters, Dr. Franklin contacted him over the link. "I hate to bother you, Mr. Garibaldi, but I have a problem." "Yeah?" "I had a patient, a Lena Maguere. She's suffering disorientation and memory lapse, and the delusion that she's Delenn, Minbar's former ambassador. I have her handbag here with her identi-card and credit chip." "Okay, let me take care of something for the Captain, and then I'll be by to pick it up. No wait, can you just have someone drop it by the security office? What's this Lena Maguere's description?" "She's about five-four, maybe five-five, green eyes, dark brown hair. She took off when I suggested contacting Talia Winters for help settling her disorientation. I'll drop off her handbag at the security office, okay?" "Thanks, Garibaldi out." To be continued in the next post. . . . Copyright by Felicia Le Cou. All Rights Reserved, save for those already owned by others. Please send comments to fmlecou@mailbox.syr.edu. Happy Holidays! From fmlecou@mailbox.syr.eduSat Dec 30 16:29:12 1995 Date: Wed, 27 Dec 1995 03:44:27 -0500 (EST) From: "Felicia M. Le Cou" Reply to: b5-creative@blob.best.net To: b5-creative@blob.best.net Subject: Be Careful What You Wish For, Part 3 Be Careful What You Wish For By Felicia Le Cou fmlecou@mailbox.syr.edu Part 3 Delenn stared at Anna, incredulous at what the woman was telling her. "While we wait for Mr. Garibaldi, let me explain a few things," Anna said. "One, I don't appreciate you just showing up like this, and then ask to see my husband as if you don't know what happened to him? Two, there were survivors from the Icarus. I survived." "How?" Delenn asked. "I was in an E.V.A. suite when the ship exploded. The blast must have rendered me unconscious. A passing transport found me, and when I woke, I had no memory of the Icarus, or of my life before." Delenn couldn't believe what she was hearing. Anna Sheridan's story was an almost exact duplicate of the one that Morden told John before she and Kosh convinced him that Morden must be released. And the way Anna delivered the explanation, as if she had memorized it. No inflection, no emotion. Delenn felt her back crawl. Morden was never alone. Was it possible that Anna was never alone either? Delenn backed a step away, straining with her senses to determine if Shadows also dwelt in the room. She couldn't tell, perhaps they weren't there. Or, perhaps they were away temporarily. Because, those that would not serve the Shadows at Z'Ha'Dum were killed. As Delenn looked around, Anna's voice changed slightly. She affected sadness well. "It's tragic, what happened. I didn't regain my memory until John was lost." Anna cast her eyes downwards. "We were never reunited. He died thinking I was dead." Delenn closed her eyes, steadying herself against the wall. She was fighting back tears when the door hissed open. How was it possible that John Sheridan was gone? +++ Garibaldi entered Anna Sheridan's quarters expecting either an angry member of the League ranting at her, or perhaps a member of the Pak'M'Ra' trade delegation hoping to eat her for lunch. But when he arrived at Anna Sheridan's quarters he didn't notice anything that should over-tax Anna Sheridan's speaking skills. He did notice that the Captain stood silently, looking annoyed. And a woman, looking pale, hugging the wall as if it had just become her best friend. "You said there was a problem, Ma'am?" Garibaldi still had a hard time addressing Anna directly as Captain. This fact probably annoyed her to no end, but she would have to live with it. "Mr. Garibaldi," Anna pointed towards the woman, "this. . .this person is creating a disturbance..." Garibaldi watched the woman as Anna spoke. She was beautiful, a fact further accentuated when she opened her eyes. They were the most brilliant green eyes he could ever remember gazing into. They were like mirrors into mirrors, and if he watched them long enough, he could escape into them. "...please get her out of my quarters; and you had better see that she stays out of trouble." "Sure, is there anything else you require while I'm here?" "Ha, as if you would ever volunteer to be so helpful. I'm making her your responsibility. She says her name is Delenn, but I know better. Deal with it, and don't screw up." "Delenn? Oh, you mean Lena Maguere," Garibaldi realized this was the patient Dr. Franklin told him about. Anna's eyes widened, "You know this woman?" "Indirectly, C'mon Ms. Maguere, we need to have a talk," and Garibaldi motioned for the dark-haired woman with the large green eyes to precede him through the open door. +++ Meanwhile, back at the Angel convention on the Vorlon Homeworld, Clarence was beginning to enjoy himself. He changed into a nice suit after meeting with Delenn, and after his autograph session he struck up a conversation with a couple of angels working out of the Centauri area. But, suddenly, Clarence heard an alarm. A loud claxon blaring. And looking around, Clarence realized that he was the only one who heard it. "Oh no, now what!" Clarence patted around his pockets until he retrieved his personal monitor. When he hit the on switch, an image of Delenn arguing with Anna Sheridan and then leaving with Garibaldi filled the screen. "Oh no," he muttered. "I TOLD her not to get involved. Jeez, now I gotta go. Why can't people just follow orders?" "What's wrong, Clarence?" asked one of the angels, a pretty blond with large fluffy white wings. "I'm sorry, ladies," he told them regretfully, "But I'm afraid that duty calls. Here's my number--" and Clarence produced two business cards, giving one to each angel, "--call me sometime, OK?" "Sure, Clarence. Sounds fun," the redheaded angel said. "Oh, is this your e-mail address? Or cloud number?" But Clarence had already started fading out, "All right, Delenn, This had better be good. . . ." +++ "What I don't understand, Ms. Maguere," Mr. Garibaldi was saying to Delenn as he led her away from Sheridan's quarters, "Is that if you knew security was on the way, why did you bother sticking around until I showed up. I spoke to Franklin, and he said you hightailed it out of MedLab." Delenn shrugged, "I wished to speak with you sooner or later. When she called for you, I figured I would just wait, and perhaps in the meantime I could determine what has happened over the past year." "You can't remember the whole past year of your life?" Garibaldi asked, surprised. "I knew that you were suffering from disorientation, but--" Delenn shook her head, attempting to explain, "Mr. Garibaldi, Don't you recognize me? At all?" Garibaldi stopped in the corridor outside the security office, and gave Delenn a long valuative look. He half smiled at her, but shook his head. "Well, uh. . .well to be honest, no, although if I were smart I'd lie--and figure out the easiest way to get you back to my quarters." "Mr. Garibaldi, please...I'm Delenn. Ambassador Delenn." "Not according to your identi-card. C'mon," And Garibaldi led Delenn inside the office. "My identi-card is wrong. I'm Delenn. You remember me; you must remember me." Delenn thought quickly, what could she say to convince him? "You showed me ...ah...cartoons once. _Duck Dodgers_ I believe. And you tried to get me to eat something called popcorn?" Garibaldi looked at Delenn closer, but he still shook his head. "I did show Ambassador Delenn that, yes, but I'm pretty sure I would have remembered you. Here's your handbag," Garibaldi picked up the green bag off the top of his desk. "Dr. Franklin dropped this by. Speaking of which, I should give him a call, let him know you've been found. He said something about setting up a meeting with Miss Winters--" "No, please, that's not a good idea," Delenn said quickly. "Please, I don't want to go back to MedLab." Garibaldi nodded his head, "Okay, but I still have to make the call. Franklin's good people; he's worried about you." Delenn nodded her head, "All right," While Garibaldi spoke with Franklin over the communications panel, Delenn took note of the surrounding. The security office hadn't changed from when she last saw it, except for the surface of Garibaldi's desk. Numerous briefs and communiques littered it, in great, unorganized piles. This did not fit in with what she knew of his character at all. "Okay, let's go. I told Franklin I'd make sure you came in tomorrow to see him. I promised him I'd keep an eye on you until then." "Is this service part of your normal job duties, Mr. Garibaldi?" Delenn asked skeptically. If she had eyebrows, at least one of them would be raised. "In a way...." Garibaldi looked embarrassed and glanced down at his feet. "Okay, okay...look, why don't we go down to the casino? We can get a couple of drinks and sort this all out." "But, I don't drink," Delenn told him. And I thought you didn't either, she thought to herself. "Doesn't matter. Trust me, you'll be fine." To be continued in the next post. . . . Copyright by Felicia Le Cou. All Rights Reserved, save for those already owned by others. Please send comments to fmlecou@mailbox.syr.edu. Happy Holidays! From fmlecou@mailbox.syr.eduSat Dec 30 16:29:14 1995 Date: Wed, 27 Dec 1995 03:45:58 -0500 (EST) From: "Felicia M. Le Cou" Reply to: b5-creative@blob.best.net To: b5-creative@blob.best.net Subject: Be Careful What You Wish For, Part 4 Be Careful What You Wish For By Felicia Le Cou fmlecou@mailbox.syr.edu Part 4 The casino was still abuz with activity when Delenn and Garibaldi arrived. "What can I get for you?" asked the bartender, winking at Delenn. "Oh, whatever," Garibaldi told her, pulling out a stool for Delenn to sit on. Delenn perched uncomfortable on the edge. The bartender brought them drinks. Garibaldi raised his glass to toast, but Delenn was hesitant. Even though she had failed to convince anyone that she was Minbari and not human, even though Dr. Franklin's scanners reported that she was human, she still did not feel comfortable with the idea of drinking alcohol. And frankly, she was surprised that Mr. Garibaldi would bring her here. "What's wrong, Ms. Maguere?" Garibaldi asked. "I've never...drank alcohol before. I was always told that I would have an adverse reaction to it." Garibaldi laughed, sharply, "Well, that *is* the point, isn't it?" He downed half the drink in one long gulp. Delenn realized that he wasn't even tasting it, just consuming it. She set her glass down and motioned for the bartender. "Water," she said. "Mr. Garibaldi!" called a voice from across the room, unmistakably Ambassador Londo Mollari. "Glad to see you back so soon, my good friend." Mollari turned his attention to Delenn, "And who do we have here? Mr. Garibaldi, I do believe an introduction is in order. . . ?" "Uhm, right, uh, Ambassador Mollari, this is Lena Maguere. Ms. Maguere, Ambassador Mollari." "So formal? Garibaldi?" he continued grinning at Delenn. "My dear, please, call me Londo. I am sure we can become very good friends." "Really?" Delenn asked, amused. "Yes," Mollari sipped out of his oversized drink, "really. Mr. Garibaldi, do I hear the Captain calling?" Mollari then shouted to the crowd, "He'll be right there! Now, Go!" Mollari inched closer to Delenn, "My dear, how did you ever get hooked up with this waste of time?" "Okay, Londo. Leave the lady alone," Garibaldi placed his arm between Delenn and Mollari. "Lena," he advised, "don't listen to him--ever!" "Oh," Delenn said, still amused, "I'm sure if Ambassador Mollari was to cross a line, he would have to realize that his _associates_ would follow. . . ." Mollari abruptly sobered up, "Excuse me, I'm needed elsewhere." Garibaldi, surprised, said, "You know, I can't ever remember seeing Londo leave the bar voluntarily? But Lena, don't buy his line. You don't want to get too mixed up with the Centauri--he does this to everyone." Garibaldi finished his drink, then picked up the one Delenn rejected. "If he gives you any trouble, I'll lean on him." Garibaldi lowered his voice. "Now, what about you?" "I tried to tell you earlier. . . ." "Yeah, I know, you are the Minbari Ambassador. Look, you've got to realize that the station is a very unstable place right now, and any talk that could disrupt the status quo around here just can't happen. If you believe you're Delenn, fine. Just keep it to yourself. You'll be better off. We'll all be better off." After Garibaldi finished his second drink, he offered to give Delenn the grand tour of the station. He also began to talk, which is what Delenn hoped he would do. She was beginning to get a better feel for how things actually were. Garibaldi didn't like Anna Sheridan, that much Delenn could be certain. Apparently she never had anything good to say about him. And she told Ivanova whenever he ticked her off. But also, Delenn learned that Commander Ivanova was very much on Garibaldi's side, even if Garibaldi wasn't sure why, anymore. But whenever anything even remotely resembling a complaint about him tumbled her way, Ivanova dismissed it. "She's your friend; she has faith in you," Delenn commented. Garibaldi shrugged his shoulders, "She shouldn't...hey is there anything specific you want to see at the Zocalo?" "No, nothing specific," Delenn replied, saddened by Garibaldi's depressing words. "Okay then, we'll work our way around B5. Maybe later I can show you my favorite things in the Universe?" "I already know number two," Delenn told him pointedly, "and I'm afraid it doesn't make much sense to me." Garibaldi shook his head, perhaps baffled by Delenn's knowledge of him and what he enjoyed--on his better days. In the Zocalo, Delenn was surprised to see a familiar, yet distinct face. "Ahh, Mr. Garibaldi, might I interest you in a model of the station!" "How are ya, G'Kar? how's business?" "Well, it pays the bills. Oh, excuse me, something for the lady?" Delenn was still in partial shock when G'Kar's question was posed. "No, nothing, thank you," she quickly said. "Surely there must be something that catches your eye?" "I do not see anything. Perhaps some other time..." "Of course, please come back again." Garibaldi and Delenn kept walking. Delenn finally spoke. "Why is Ambassador G'Kar selling trinkets?" "Well, he's not an ambassador--hasn't been for several months. And with all the budget cuts on the station, everybody is doing what they can to support themselves, including a former ambassador hawking merchandise. Anna Sheridan wanted to turn him over to the Centauri when their war wrapped up four months ago, but Commander Ivanova fought for him, gave him asylum. Neroon wasn't happy...but this is probably boring since you don't really know these people. As Garibaldi kept talking while they walked, Delenn started looking down side corridors and hidden areas. She tried to digest everything she was seeing. However, what she saw down one corridor was scary enough to send her packing. Anna Sheridan and Morden were having a conversation in a secluded area. Delenn's mind went racing. John's wife and the Shadow's agent operative working together? And John Sheridan wasn't anywhere to be found? "What about John?" she asked. Garibaldi clenched his jaw, breathing in deeply before answering. "John...is gone. He was here only six months before he disappeared. We believe he was captured by a so far unknown alien race. We never recovered him." Garibaldi paused, considering what he had just said. The words became a heavy weight on his mind. He continued in a more flippant mode. "And then there was the reclassification of the station. Civilian operations/Military downgrading. Damn budget cuts. With the wrap up of the war, well, what was the point of pouring so much money into this place?" "How did the war end, Mr. Garibaldi," Delenn wanted to know. "Michael, call me Michael. The war ended when the Narn simply couldn't protect its colonies. Pressure from the outlying regions to surrender increased after they had no way to evacuate refugees, or feed those left in attack zones." "There was no one helping evacuate the refugees?" Delenn asked. "I thought that there was some unofficial help...." "It wasn't enough, Lena. The unofficial sources just grew overwhelmed. But hey, I was telling you about the station reclassification. Damn budget cuts." Garibaldi began walking again, Delenn followed, hoping he would continue talking even though he seemed more and more distressed as he talked. "To top everything off, EarthDome assigned Anna Sheridan to the station. A civilian captain, can you believe it? We officially acknowledge it, but its Ivanova who really runs B5. She does a good job, real good, in fact. But she's no diplomat, Hell, she admits it freely. And EarthDome wants a figurehead in control...and they said she was the perfect choice considering her connection to John. Not that John didn't look good as a control. . . . I mean, he knew what he was doing. And I thought the station had promise, a destiny. We were all told that the Babylon project was the last, best hope for peace. Now i guess we're the last, best hope for a discount on Centauri action figures for kids. Oh well, we'll get through this somehow." "But why? Why did all these things happen?" Delenn asked. "Ahh, I dunno," Garibaldi shrugged. "It could have been one thing or any number of things. It just happened. Uh, what did you want to see? I can show you just about anything--I'm off duty until tomorrow." Delenn shook her head, she really didn't care about seeing the station as much as she did about hearing what was going on." "I will need help finding my quarters," Delenn said. "Oh, yeah, right. Your in Green, business area." Garibaldi led her to another level of the station. "Here," he said, taking Delenn's identi-card from her and slipping it into the security panel. "I present to you, your quarters, Ms. Maguere." Garibaldi followed Delenn inside. "Ah," he said, heading straight for the counter where a flask, of what Delenn assumed was alcohol, sat. "The ITA must consider you pretty important to actually book decent quarters for you." "The ITA?" Delenn asked. "The Interstellar Technology Association. Your records show that your here for the conference they're setting up for next week. Your here a little early." "Yes, I suppose," Delenn said as she watched Garibaldi pour himself a drink of the amber-colored liquid from the flask. "Do you mind if I ask some questions about your Captain, about Anna?" "Sure, shoot." "I thought she was lost with the Icarus, about 3.5 years ago? But she said she had amnesia?" "Yeah, until Captain Sheridan disappeared. Convenient, if you ask me." "And are you aware of her connection to Mr. Morden?" "The trader?" Delenn had his professional interest now. "What of him." "I shouldn't say...but I believe you will find, if you examine the Icarus's passenger list, that Mr. Morden was listed as a member. And if you check his record of his comings and goings, you will find that he wasn't *anywhere* until he started coming on board Babylon 5, about a year in a half ago." "Ms. Maguere, just what are you trying to say?" "Only that it seems like a large coincidence. And that there are, or may, be other forces involved. And I noticed Anna Sheridan speaking to Mr. Morden; I would advise you to take extra care in your communications with Ambassador Sinclair." Delenn was taking a stab in the dark, trying to determine if Garibaldi was involved with the Rangers in this reality or not. And her figurative sword hit the heart, judging from the expression passing over Garibaldi's face. "Lena, how did you know--" Garibaldi's link beeped, "Mr. Garibaldi?" "Yeah," Garibaldi slightly slurred, it was Ivanova. "You have a coded transmission coming in, where do you want me to route it?" "Uh," Garibaldi looked at Delenn, who didn't bother to conceal her interest in his conversation. "The security office. I'll be there in two." "I have to go," Garibaldi told Delenn. "I'll check on you later. Dr. Franklin wants you in first thing in the morning. And if you want to stay out of trouble with Anna, you had better get some sleep and make that appointment. In the meantime, stay out of trouble, please?" Delenn nodded her head. It had been a long day. Maybe if she slept she would wake to discover that this was all just a bad dream. Suddenly, there was a flash in front of her. When Delenn could see once again, she focussed on Clarence. "You are really ruffling my wings, you know that?" Clarence sounded irritated. Delenn didn't doubt that he was. But she really didn't care. "Listen, I told you not to talk to anybody and what are you doing? Talking to people! Not only are you talking to people, but you are interfering in their lives. This exercise was supposed to show you life without you...I mean, what part of 'NO' didn't you understand? Huh? So, until I come back, don't talk to anybody. Don't--" "What about Mr. Garibaldi? I need to talk to *someone*" Clarence scratched his head, pondering. "Hmmmph, OK. One person. This Garibaldi--he seems dense enough. I'll bend the rules this once, but if you screw it up, so help me...." Clarence stopped, composing himself. "Behave yourself. I'll see you in another two days. Remember, you're supposed to just look around before I pop you into your new time-line." But what if Delenn didn't want to be a part of the new time- line? She wanted to ask, but didn't have the chance. With another flash of light, Clarence was gone. Interestingly, Delenn noticed that this 'Clarence' was inconsistent in his comings and goings. He couldn't seem to decide whether or not to flash in and out, or fade in and out. +++ Garibaldi asked Zack to step out while he received the message. Sure, Zack said that would be fine. It was about time for him to take a walk around anyway. "Gold Channel, decoding," the computer intoned, and Garibaldi seated himself at the desk, waiting. "Michael," Jeff Sinclair's face appeared on the monitor. "I'm sorry to drag you out of bed in what must be a late hour. . . ." "No, wasn't sleeping. What's going on, Jeff?" Garibaldi curiously asked; he normally didn't receive live transmissions from Sinclair due to the security risk. "I'm afraid I have bad news. . . ." +++ Delenn's body and mind suffered from stress and exhaustion, yet she couldn't bring herself to sleep. So many questions passed through her as she restlessly paced Lena Maguere's quarters that she couldn't keep track. What were the Shadows' next major move? Was the White Star project still under way? Why were relations between Earth and Minbar disintegrating? Because Neroon served as Ambassador, and not her? Neroon's presence served as a sharp irony. Had she remained on Babylon 5 then Neroon would have taken her place on the Grey Council. And now, in this reality, when she took leadership of the Grey Council, Neroon took her place on Babylon 5. Neroon seemed an unlikely candidate to navigate interspecies diplomacy, especially based on her observations of him earlier in the day. The door chimed; Mr. Garibaldi stood in the corridor. His eyes looked red and irritated, and his expression somber. His hands were shoved deeply in his pockets. He rocked back and forth on his feet a moment, then stopped. "Mr. Garibaldi?" "Lena, I'd like to talk to you a bit, if I may?" Delenn stepped back away from the door, granting Garibaldi entry. "Of course." Garibaldi retrieved his drink from the counter, finished it in one gulp, then poured another. "You know, you said some things earlier tonight that really made sense. While I was out I checked the Icarus log as you suggested. You were right about Morden. The question is, what does it all mean?" "I think...I think it means you shouldn't drink any more of that. You need to think clearly if we are to straighten this all out." Garibaldi ignored the suggestion and poured himself another drink. After Garibaldi replaced the flask on the counter, Delenn picked it up and deliberately poured it's contents into the small sink. Garibaldi set his glass down before falling into the green upholstered sofa. "You know about the Rangers?" Delenn nodded, remaining standing, watching. "I wonder what else you might know, because right now my information sources are fast becoming scarce." "All right, then," Delenn sat on the sofa next to him. "Where do you want me to start? The Shadows?" "'Beings in the Universe older than all our races...' Already heard the speech. And Morden, and possibly Anna Sheridan, are both working for them. Can you tell me anything else I don't know?" "Ambassador Mollari is possibly working with Morden, or he was, during the Narn war." "That's possible, I've seen Londo talking with Morden in the past, although lately I've noticed that Londo avoids him like the plague. Anything else?" "Miss Winters is a spy. She--" "Now hold on just one moment--" "Talia doesn't realize it," Delenn stressed. "She doesn't even know herself. But your Earth Psi Corps planted an artificial personality within her. She's the one that Lyta Alexander came her to expose, but Lyta never had the chance because there wasn't anyone here she felt she could trust to help her, and they caught her." "You make it sound as if you are personally responsible. But there's no way I can verify what you say, short of pulling Talia aside and confronting her." "Which would be a bad idea for you, in any case." Delenn told him. "All I can suggest is that you keep a close eye on her. I don't know how much she knows about the Rangers or anything else you have been working on, but you must limit her access to sensitive information. Right now, she wants to help. She would never dream of hurting any of you. But all that can change with the sending of one little telepathic word." "What else?" Garibaldi asked. He wanted to know, but the expression on his face suggested that he didn't want to know how Delenn knew. Delenn continued to speak of the bits and pieces she knew about General Hague, and the investigation into the death of Earth's last president. Garibaldi might want to make some discreet inquiries? Eventually, Garibaldi fell asleep on the sofa. Delenn contemplated waking him, but...he looked rather exhausted. And it was well after midnight, station time, and Delenn was exhausted. If she woke him he would start asking questions again, and she was tired of talking. So she retrieved a blanket and covered him with it. Then she went to bed, wondering what Day Two would bring her, and still holding on to the hope that she really was delusional, and none of this was real. To be continued in the next post. . . . Copyright by Felicia Le Cou. All Rights Reserved, save for those already owned by others. Please send comments to fmlecou@mailbox.syr.edu. Happy Holidays! Well, I hope you are enjoying this so far. I'll try to get the rest out tonight or tomorrow!! --Felicia. From fmlecou@mailbox.syr.eduSat Dec 30 16:29:18 1995 Date: Wed, 27 Dec 1995 16:39:52 -0500 (EST) From: "Felicia M. Le Cou" Reply to: b5-creative@blob.best.net To: b5-creative@blob.best.net Subject: Be Careful What You Wish For, Part 5 Well, let me try sending this again...the end is slight messed up, but there is a quick revision in the next segment. Be Careful What You Wish For By Felicia Le Cou fmlecou@mailbox.syr.edu Part 5 Day Two: The bedside chronometer showed that it was late afternoon when Delenn finally woke. And it only took a moment for her to realize that either she was still dreaming, the events of the past day really happened and more was about to happen, or she went insane long ago and no one bothered to tell her. Sluggishly, she dressed and attempted to fix her appearance while looking in the mirror. Wisps of long dark hair had fallen out while she slept, but for the most part it remained in the twist concealing her boneset. She reached up and tried to pull her hair out, but it seemed almost glued in place--some kind of semi- protective field provided by Clarence? To ensure that she appeared human? Or mostly? No one even seemed to notice that her facial structure wasn't completely normal for a human's--no one at all. Was that, too, part of the illusion? Delenn soon discovered that Garibaldi was gone. He had duties, and she sincerely hoped that he wasn't in the Casino, drinking. The communications panel flashed that she had a message, it was from Garibaldi. He wanted her to promise to at least try to stay out of trouble for a single day. That meant, he told her, to not talk to strangers who had no idea who she was, and give them details on their lives that she shouldn't know. Also, she might stay clear of Londo, his interest in her was growing, and if she strayed near the casino then she might REALLY be in trouble. Besides, he then told her, he reserved the right to hit on her first and foremost. Humans just never seemed to give up, Delenn thought in response to that comment. She couldn't determine if he was teasing or he simply needed to stay clear of the Casino himself. +++ In the seclusion of the security office, Michael Garibaldi waited as the computer ran a more detailed background check on Lena Maguere. After Franklin contacted him, wanting to know where she was, and after Garibaldi determined that the woman was still asleep, he decided that it might be wise for him to find out how she knew so much about so much. Garibaldi wanted to trust her, there was something about her that just made him want to look into her bright green eyes and believe everything she told him, even when she tried to tell him she was Delenn. Maybe he was losing his objectivity. Regardless, he didn't have to be completely sober to know what Ivanova would say if she knew that he didn't check her out. He pulled up a log of Lena Maguere's travels for the past three months. She had been a lot of places. Her job with the ITA seemed to take her everywhere in the known galaxy. She had travelled to the Draazi system one week and the Centauri the next. Oh, wait, this was interesting, Garibaldi stopped the readout and scrolled back. Three weeks ago Lena Maguere was on Minbar for the ITA. But ITA business was restricted to only one of the four days she was there. It was conceivable then, that Lena knew Delenn and met with her at this point. He would have to remember to ask Jeff if he knew anything about it. But Delenn may not have told him; she never told anyone anything they didn't need to know, and no more. Lena Maguere also arrived on Babylon 5 before she needed to. Why? To warn them about Anna? About Talia Winters's Artificial Personality? But then why the delusion? Why was she in so much pain? Oh, Damn! Maybe this might explain a bit. Two weeks ago she was on a transport that was attacked by an unknown race, possibly raiders, and everyone but her was killed. She survived, but spent three days drifting on a ship with only herself for company--and over fifty dead corpses. "Dr. Franklin, you there?" Garibaldi contacted MedLab. "Yes." "I'm sending you some more information on Lena Maguere. I think it might be useful for her medical record. I wonder if it might have anything to do with what she seems to be going through now." "Possibly, do you know where Ms. Maguere is now?" +++ At the moment, Delenn as perusing the Zocalo. She didn't really have any specific purpose in mind--except to determine what was going on in this alternate reality. No, not alternate, this was what existed because a year ago she made the decision to accept the Grey Council's leadership. That was her wish, wasn't it? And yet, yet she experienced only frustration as she tried to evaluate the others, and their progress in building the Rangers to the point where they could fight against the Shadows. Garibaldi still did not completely trust her, despite all she told him the night before. And John...John Sheridan must surely be dead if he never escaped from the Streibs. He would be better off if he was dead. Delenn wondered if Draal, on the planet below, would recognize her. But she could think of no way to get access to a ship to travel. And Clarence, if he was ever coming back, would probably not be pleased. Whoever Clarence really was, he never really fully explained to her. He just said that if she were human, she would know. And Clarence had a knack of turning up just when Delenn assumed he wouldn't, and if she was going to put things as right as possible in this time-line.... She must hurry. Delenn's goal for what little was left of the day: 1) Find out what the "project's" status was and 2) stay out of Anna Sheridan's way. And Morden's, and Talia's.... Delenn seated herself at the Zocalo's lunch counter. The attendant, a young human woman, smiled in greeting. Delenn wordlessly handed over her credit chip and pointed to the menu item she wanted. The nearby monitor hosted a black and white image--a movie from Earth's history. It was some kind of Christmas tradition that really didn't make much sense. Delenn craned her head in an attempt to understand why the humans were so taken with the broadcast. She thought she saw a familiar face in the screen, but when she looked closer, the face was gone. Oddly, she noticed Lennier sitting only a few spaces down at the counter--he was speaking with Vir Cotto, diplomatic attache to Londo Mollari of the Centauri Republic. Interesting. Lennier noticed her noticing him, and nodded in silent greeting. The counter attendant returned with Delenn's order and credit chip. "Thank you, Ms. Maguere. . . ." Delenn would eat her meal, and then head to the Information Center--the only place on Babylon 5 where she could discreetly research the day-to-day events of the last year without fear of being monitored. The room's computers kept track of everything accessed, so retrospective anonymity was out. Delenn finished her meal, a salad of some sort that she didn't remember eating but only noticed when she finished. But just as she was about to leave, the movie flickered from the monitors all around--to be replaced by the ISN News logo. +++ "Mr. Garibaldi, do my eyes deceive me?" Garibaldi wasn't really surprised to see Commander Ivanova come knocking. He needed to talk to her anyway. "Well, I do work here last I heard," he told her. "What can I do for you?" Ivanova slipped into the chair in front of his desk. Tilting her head to one sided, she regarded him with a raised eyebrow. "You can tell me the story on this Lena Maguere. I've heard from both Ambassador Neroon AND Anna Sheridan. Who is she? Who is she really? Lennier told me that she was claiming to be Ambassador Delenn?" "She an interesting person, but a little mixed up I guess," Garibaldi explained what he knew about her background. Then he mentioned that she might have met with Delenn when she was on Minbar, but he couldn't confirm it. "I stopped by your quarters last night, after I didn't find you in the Casino," Ivanova commented. "I wanted to find out what the message was about." Of course, thought Garibaldi. Ivanova wanted to know what was going on, the only way she could keep a step ahead of EarthDome and the people who sent them Anna Sheridan wrapped in an obnoxious green and purple polk-a-dot bow. "I wasn't there," Garibaldi pointed out. "And where were you?" Ivanova's voice teased. "It's not what you think," Garibaldi snapped, deciding he needed a drink, but no matter how much Ivanova backed him up against Anna, it wouldn't be wise to drink right in front of her. "I sacked out on her sofa after she listened to me rant about the state of the Universe for who knows how long." "I suggest next time you want to rant about the state of the Universe, you clean your desk instead. Might be a little more productive," Ivanova pointed to the mess on Garibaldi's desk. "Yeah, yeah, but you know, some things she said made a lot of sense. Susan, how much do you know about General Hague?" "I'll tell you that AFTER to you tell me what the message was about." "Not good news, I'm afraid," Garibaldi checked his chronometer. "It should be hitting the information feeds anytime now. . . ." +++ "We interrupt this special holiday presentation for an ISN News special report," spoke a male voice. Then the Zocalo's monitors showed a woman Delenn instantly recognized; she was the same woman who interviewed her for the Earth media less than six weeks prior. "This is Cynthia Torquemann, reporting for ISN news," the blond reporter spoke somberly into the camera. The people around Delenn ceased speaking; the silence in the Zocalo screamed louder than any normal noise level. Something was very wrong. "I am saddened to report that Satai Delenn of the Minbari Federation, and former ambassador to Babylon 5, died at 2300 yesterday evening, Earth Standard Time...." To be continued in the next post. . . . Copyright by Felicia Le Cou. All Rights Reserved, save for those already owned by others. Any comments please send to fmlecou@mailbox.syr.edu. Happy Holidays! From fmlecou@mailbox.syr.eduSat Dec 30 16:29:20 1995 Date: Wed, 27 Dec 1995 16:42:42 -0500 (EST) From: "Felicia M. Le Cou" Reply to: b5-creative@blob.best.net To: b5-creative@blob.best.net Cc: Dave Mansell , "Fears, Daniel" , Dann Davenport , MS CHRISTINA L KAMNIKAR Subject: Be Careful What You Wish For, Part 6 (Okay, I think after this segment I have maybe one or two left. Wish me luck, but my wrists and fingers are really, really, REALLY getting numb now> Be Careful What You Wish For By Felicia Le Cou fmlecou@mailbox.syr.edu Part 6 "We interrupt this special holiday presentation for an ISN News special report," spoke a male voice. The monitors in the Zocalo then showed a woman Delenn instantly recognized. She was the same woman who interviewed her for the Earth media less than six weeks prior. "This is Cynthia Torquemann, reporting for ISN news," the blond reporter spoke somberly into the camera. The people around Delenn ceased speaking; the silence in the Zocalo screamed louder than any normal noise level. Something was very wrong. "I am saddened to report that Satai Delenn of the Minbari Federation, and former ambassador to Babylon 5, died at 2300 yesterday evening, Earth Standard Time...." "In Valen's name, no!" escaped the terse whisper from Delenn's throat. Why was it suddenly so difficult to breath? "Political analysts in EarthDome believe that without Delenn facilitating communication between Minbar and Earth, already tense relations will further disintegrate," Torquemann continued to speak. "The details of her death have not yet been disclosed; the Minbari Embassy has scheduled a statement...." Delenn couldn't seem to draw in enough air, perhaps she lost the ability. She stood from her stool, stepping in the direction of the overhead monitor near the end of the counter. Cynthia Torquemann's face was replaced by Delenn's photo--as she appeared before her transformation. "Satai Delenn, the first Minbari Ambassador to Babylon 5, devoted her life to the advancement of peace...." Delenn closed her eyes, lightheaded, confused, trying to make sense of everything. This cannot be, this cannot be, she thought. "This cannot be!" Delenn spoke aloud without realizing it. "How can this be...." "Are you all right?" Delenn felt a warm hand on her forearm. Familiar, comforting. She opened her eyes. It was Lennier; he looked upset, possibly by the newscast? "No," she replied, backing away. "I'm sorry, I should go...." Delenn turned away, but paused. She couldn't think of where she should go, so she just started walking. Lennier followed after her. "If you would allow me to walk with you--" "If you wish," Delenn did so want to speak to Lennier, but thinking that he couldn't recognize her as she was--was painful. And she wasn't supposed to tell who she was anyway. When she tried to tell them, no one believed her, and now it was too late, now she was dead-- She needed air. She needed to think clearly. After she left the Zocalo she found herself winding towards her quarters. But wait, her quarters were no longer in the ambassadorial wing. She didn't even have clearance to be there; she didn't want to get Mr. Garibaldi in trouble again. She paused in the corridor, remembering that she needed to find the business area. "You knew her." Started, Delenn, looked back. Lennier was still with her, regarding her curiously. "In a way," Delenn replied, "sort of, I mean...--" flustered now, "why do you ask?" "I do not mean to intrude--but your words...you spoke Minbari in the Zocalo, in fact, your words were perfectly inflected in the sub-dialect of the religious caste, which she spoke--and then I--" "Lennier, do not analyze this too deeply. Do not mention this to. . . to Neroon. He would not be pleased." "Then you did know her. . . ." Lennier looked as if he wanted to speak, but stopped himself. Delenn wanted to tell him more, to tell him the truth. But-- But she couldn't. How could she, it would be cruel. Even if he believed her, because she-- Delenn shook her head, trying to sort her thoughts. How could she be dead? How could that have happened? Delenn stared at her credit chip, but it held no answers to the lifeline quickly unravelling around her, no magical instructions from Clarence, if Clarence even existed. Perhaps she was going insane. Perhaps this was a part of Kosh's test. No matter, she was truly on her own, alone. Her sense of disorientation was increasing, "Ms. Maguere?" "Excuse me," she said, distracted. "I should...go now." Dizziness overtook her and she leaned against the wall near the access tube. Lennier moved to support her but she waved him away. She couldn't remember why she was here, in the corridor. She only knew that everything was wrong. As she started to fall into the darkness a flash of blue surrounded her. She remembered pain and blackness. A man, a human with dark hair and pasty skin, who she detested, stood over her. He told her that things simply were not going to work out for her, it wasn't her fault, simply that her fate had been decided before she was ever born. The memory faded out, and Delenn realized that it belonged to her alternate self. Numb now, she was vaguely aware of the lift hissing open, but she was too distant to focus, or open her eyes. "Commander Ivanova, please, can you help?" Lennier still attempted to support Delenn as she sunk to the floor. "What happened here?" Ivanova asked; Delenn vaguely became aware that she was patting her face. The sensations actually helped her focus...not that she really wanted to. "Ivanova to MedLab--" "No!" Delenn surged all her strength into pushing Ivanova's link away. "No, please, I am all right!" Delenn knew that if she went back to MedLab, Franklin would want Talia to scan her. And she couldn't let that happen. Ivanova looked towards Lennier. "She reacted very badly to news of the Satai's death," he explained. "MedLab," Franklin's voice spoke from the link. "False alarm, Doctor. Sorry to bother you." Delenn struggled back into a standing position. Still feeling dizzy, still feeling disoriented. But knowing-- "Ivanova to Garibaldi. We have a problem here. Please hurry." And everything faded out to black. +++ When next she became aware of her surrounding; she and Mr. Garibaldi stood just inside the entry to her--to Lena Maguere's- quarters. Blinking, she silently looked around, none of this was right. This place was not hers. No place was hers. Her gaze centered on Garibaldi. He probably was her only friend here--even if he thought she was a little nuts. Garibaldi pulled a chair over to where Delenn stood. "Sit,"he said, placing his hand on her shoulders, slightly pushing down. She sat, her limbs leaden, her life numb. Garibaldi kneeled in front of her. Peering up into her eyes he asked, "Can you tell me what is going on? Lennier seemed concerned; *I'm* concerned." "Lennier is always concerned," Delenn told him, her voice sounding distant, as if someone else spoke. She looked away from Mr. Garibaldi, her eyes focussing on nothing. Perhaps, perhaps...by focussing on nothing, then nothing would focus on her, and she could just fade away.... "Damn it! Lena," Garibaldi hit the side of Delenn's chair, trying to startle her into focussing on him. "I can't help you if you withdraw. I can't help you if you retreat like that. It's as if, as if you want--" Garibaldi broke off. He had to wipe away tears that collected in the corners of his eyes. Frustration, anger. It didn't matter. The melancholy that filled her was now spilling out into the room. She imagined that once it was filled, nothing would be left of her...." "Lena, please...." "Don't you understand, Mr. Garibaldi?" Delenn's voice sounded high-pitched, hysterical to her own ears. "I'm dead. I can't help you, I can't put things right. I failed everyone, you and Kosh, and the Rangers, and Draal...and it's John--" "Now you're talking crazy again." "It doesn't matter. Doesn't matter," Delenn closed her eyes. "Everything is lost. I'm dead--*she's* dead. How can that be? I don't understand." "No, no, no, hey. You are _not_ dead. Your right here, right here," Garibaldi squeezed her cold hand. Delenn looked at him. But it took too much energy to focus; she saw only the distortion of shapes around her. "Stop it! Stop it right now," Garibaldi sounded frightened. Why? What was she to him? He didn't really know her, didn't recognized her. Why-- Garibaldi stood her up and shook her. "Talk to me. Just talk to me, please." "Why? Why? No one listened, and now, when--" "No," Garibaldi covered her mouth. "Don't say it again." In response, Delenn cried. She couldn't stop herself from crying. Grief. Grief for John Sheridan, Lyta Alexander, for herself. Even for Michael Garibaldi because his life wasn't what it could be. Grief for the because everything she worked for since the war with Earth was now ended. "But, I wish I--" Delenn whispered, feeling herself fading out. "No, you don't. You don't mean that," Garibaldi kissed her, the feeling of his warm lips over hers brought her back to the nightmare reality. No, no, just let her fade out. Then Delenn looked at him, wide-eyed. He kissed her again, longer. "Do you feel dead, now?" "Mr. Garibaldi--" "Michael." "--Michael, I don't know what I feel." "That's okay. It's okay if you don't know what to feel. Hell, I don't know what to feel most of the time. But the important thing is that you're still here, here enough to question how you feel. As long as you know you exist, and don't wish you didn't." Garibaldi kissed her again. "Lena," he said hoarsely, "tell me you're alive. Tell me you want to live. I don't know how to make everything right for you, but I care, and I'll do what I can to try. Tell me." "Yes." Garibaldi smoothed back some of the hair that had fallen out of the elaborate twist it was in. "Do you want me to leave?" he asked her. Delenn shook her head. "No," she said. To be continued in the next post. . . . Copyright by Felicia Le Cou. All Rights Reserved, save for those already owned by others. Any comments please send to fmlecou@mailbox.syr.edu. Happy Holidays! From fmlecou@mailbox.syr.eduSat Dec 30 16:29:22 1995 Date: Fri, 29 Dec 1995 00:10:15 -0500 (EST) From: "Felicia M. Le Cou" Reply to: b5-creative@blob.best.net To: b5-creative@blob.best.net Cc: Dann Davenport , "Fears, Daniel" , MS CHRISTINA L KAMNIKAR Subject: Be Careful What You Wish For, Part 7 Be Careful What You Wish For By Felicia Le Cou fmlecou@mailbox.syr.edu Part 7 Day Three: Clarence lost track of time. The Angel Convention provided the best blast all year around, and the holiday season was always the best time of year for it. The question-answer panel on 'Angles in the Movies' wound to an elated close: Clarence got to answer the questions, everyone else got to ask them. But something strange happened as Clarence left the conference room. Suddenly, he found himself in his supervisors office. Not a slow fade, not a sudden flash of light. Clarence blinked and he was elsewhere. Blip. Now where was the flair in that? Instantly, he focussed on his superior's cranky face. White- haired, dressed in white judicial robes, the man was a Judge Wapner wannabe. "Clarence! Just what do you think you are doing?" Uh, oh. Clarence shuffled his feet a little. His boss sounded a little ticked off. He hoped it wouldn't be a big factor in his wing recertification. "Uh, I was asked to guest speak at this year's convention." "And what about your assignment? I got a memo from the Vorlon Embassy, and they are not pleased with the amount of time this is taking. They have their own plans for Ambassador Delenn, you know-" "No, I didn't know," Clarence apologized. "Didn't you read your Memo Brief?" "Well, uh, I scanned it...." "Clarence, you've been very sloppy. This was supposed to be a quick affirmation that Delenn was in the right place at the right time--now she's trying to change things. You shouldn't have left her alone!" "Sorry." "Look here?" Judge Wapner pointed to the viewer. "The girl is a mess." The viewer showed Delenn trying to straighten her hair in the bathroom mirror. She was definitely having problems with that twist; strands of hair unravelled all over the place. When Wapner turned to toggle the zoom, Clarence wiggled his finger at the monitor. Delenn's hair fixed itself. "She looks all right to me," Clarence commented. "But, as you know, looks can be deceiving. Get back to Babylon 5, Clarence. Clean up your mess!" +++ Life's road sometimes took unexpected turns, Delenn thought. Yet, her reaction to those surprises just around the bend, out of sight, could be as equally unexpected. Yesterday, lost in confusion and emotional trauma, slowly faded into the morning's calm. Delenn slipped out of bed; the chronometer showed 0530 hours. Good, it was early. She could make good use of the day. Careful not to wake the other room's occupant, Delenn quietly retrieved her gown and escaped to the bathroom. She washed her face, dressed, and attempted to deal with the unruly mess her hair tangled into. Most of it fell out of its twist during the night. Delenn tried to comb it out but what has still remained wrapped wouldn't budge. Just as she was contemplating finding a good pair of scissors, her hair lifted up off her shoulders, neatly repairing itself. Typical. Delenn looked about, wondering if Clarence would make another appearance. No flash, no one fading in and out of existence. No one except the mirror, with Delenn staring back at herself. She took a deep breath; she didn't have time for melancholy. The Chronometer read 0559. Still early. "Mr. Garibaldi?" Delenn broke the comfortable silence by speaking. She almost regretted it, but she had a lot of things to do today. In response, Garibaldi burrowed deeper beneath the blanket, holding tightly onto the pillow Delenn slept on earlier. Cautiously, Delenn tapped his shoulder--still no response. Finally, she brushed at his forehead with her finger tips. "Michael?" Delenn asked again. She withdrew her hand when he stirred. "Good morning," she greeted him as he opened his eyes. "Morning? Already?" Garibaldi squinted, rubbing his eyes. "I'm afraid so," Delenn smiled, amused. Garibaldi sat up, concern on his face, "How are you feeling, Lena?" "Fine, fine. I'm fine." "Are...are okay with all of this?" Garibaldi hugged the pillow; Delenn wondered if he would like a stuffed teddy bear. "Yes...I have some questions, though." Delenn stepped away. "of course, you may not answer. I'll have some tea for you when you're ready." When Garibaldi came to claim his tea, he seemed nervous. Or, at least to Delenn (who still spent considerable time interpreting human expression) he seemed nervous, but she could be wrong. "How are you?" she asked him, as he peered dubiously at his tea. "Is something wrong?" "No, no...," Garibaldi laughed a little, "I guess its just been a long time since I've had anything but alcohol for breakfast." Garibaldi sat on the stool near the counter, shrugged his shoulders, and sipped his tea. "And...I guess I was wondering the same question?" Delenn seated herself on the stool facing Garibaldi across the counter. "No, Mr. Gar-- Michael," Delenn quickly corrected. Tilting her head to one side, tentatively touched his hand, she spoke slowly, "Michael, please relax.... You did nothing wrong." Garibaldi grasped her hand tightly. "Good, because when you said you wanted to talk to me, I thought--" Delenn shook her head, "No, no. Not at all. It's about what we discussed the other night. I...need to know things...." "Well, Lena, it seems that you already *know* pretty much everything. I had no idea you would take...Delenn's death so badly. I'm sorry. God, I'm sorry. I should have figured out that you knew her. I mean--" Garibaldi broke off, uncomfortable. He drank the rest of his tea, much like Delenn observed him drinking two days ago: biggest gulp possible. Delenn wordlessly refilled his cup. "Lena, what I'm trying to apologize for," Garibaldi continued, "is for not telling you sooner. I found out two nights ago; you shouldn't have had to find out through ISN." "You knew," Delenn asked, "when you receive the coded message that came in?" Delenn wondered why Clarence hadn't told her when he last made an appearance? Maybe Clarence was a delusion? But even if so, everything else screamed reality. Garibaldi nodded, "Uh, huh." Delenn straightened her own cup of tea. "Michael, you said that your information sources were fast drying up. How will...Delenn's death affect the Rangers?" "Hard to say," he said. "Delenn kept things close to the vest. She only told people what the needed to know--" "--And no more," Delenn finished for him. "You knew her pretty well," Garibaldi commented. "Actually, our backup in the Minbari government just...ended. Maybe she told someone else who...maybe she told Jeff, but...." "But you can't be certain. You can't know," Delenn nearly whispered. "She never expected that she would not be around for the coming war. As you might say, she held all the cards." "You think so?" "Yes," Delenn said. Because that's what I have done, she continued to herself. "I hope Jeff knows something." Delenn stood up, "I have some things I need to do." "ITA stuff?" Garibaldi looked curious. "Perhaps," Delenn replied enigmatically. +++ Delenn's visit to Babylon 5's Information Center confirmed her suspicions: her alternate self didn't have a backup plan in case something happened to her. Delenn determined this by accessing secret accounts that she set up long ago. She was also able to access her electronic diaries. Thankfully, old habits hadn't changed much. Delenn hoped that the ITA, or whatever organization was really paying her bill, wouldn't react adversely to the charges she racked up by logging onto Minbar-Net's remote interstellar database. She created three sets of new passwords that would access the information her alternate self kept on the Rangers. She created one new password for her political diaries. Then she downloaded various segments of information onto four data crystals - also to be charged to ITA." John Sheridan was fond of the phrase, "Lack of information can kill." It was more than time for Delenn to adopt that philosophy. Before she left, she took a data reader - also charged to the ITA. To be continued in the next post. . . . Copyright by Felicia Le Cou. All Rights Reserved, save for those already owned by others. Any comments please send to fmlecou@mailbox.syr.edu. Happy Holidays! From fmlecou@mailbox.syr.eduSat Dec 30 16:29:25 1995 Date: Fri, 29 Dec 1995 00:11:08 -0500 (EST) From: "Felicia M. Le Cou" Reply to: b5-creative@blob.best.net To: b5-creative@blob.best.net Subject: Be Careful What You Wish For, Part 8 Be Careful What You Wish For By Felicia Le Cou fmlecou@mailbox.syr.edu Part 8 "Excuse me, are you Lena Maguere?" Talia Winters stood in front of Delenn, dressed in her gold and black uniform, complete with her Psi-Corps required gloves and pin on one shoulder. "Yes?" Delenn spoke cautiously. Delenn came to this part of the garden area because she hoped to escape notice while catching up on the past year's worth of diaries, something she should have thought of earlier. Talia Winters was the last person she expected to find her here. "I'm Talia Winters, Babylon 5's resident commercial telepath. May I sit down?" "All right?" "I won't take much of your time, but Dr. Franklin asked me to check on you. He said you might be having some kind of disorientation?" "I'm fine, now. Thank you for your concern," Delenn's discomfort increased the longer Talia remained. And despite the fact that Delenn took extra care to guard her thoughts, some of this discomfort must have seeped through to the telepath. "Are you sure?" Talia asked, concerned. She brushed back a strand of straight blond hair from her face. "I sense that you are concerned. I could perform a light scan. It won't be a problem--" "Um, Miss Winters," Delenn held up a hand, motioning Talia silent. "That won't be necessary. You said that there was another reason you needed to speak with me?" "Oh yes, your supervisor in the Interstellar Technology Association, a Mr. Clarence Angel, asked me to contact you--?" "Clarence," Delenn interrupted. "Clarence contacted you?" "Yes, he said that I should meet with you here to set up the ITA conference next week. Apparently, there will be some need for a telepath....?" Talia's voice grew uncertain. "Did I make a mistake?" "Oh, no, Miss Winters. Of course." Delenn thought quickly. Why would Clarence contact Miss Winters? As a discreet warning to her that she wasn't supposed to interfere in the events around her? Well, it wasn't going to work. "Ms. Maguere?" Talia asked, still waiting. "Yes. Will the standard conference rules apply to your contract?" Two can play this game, Delenn thought. "Yes," Talia replied. "Psi Corps has very detailed regulations about such events. I can have the contract E-mailed to your quarters, say, in two hours? Unless you would rather discuss the details now?" "No, I'm sorry. Now is not a good time," Delenn quickly said. "I have some time...tomorrow? One p.m.? I can bring you the contract then." Talia wrinkled her forehead slightly, as if sensing that Delenn planned to postpone once tomorrow came, but then she smiled. "Of course." Talia stood up. She looked as if she wished to speak, but-- "You wish to say something?" Delenn prompted. Talia smiled, "Well, yes. I just wanted to say that Michael Garibaldi is a friend of mine, and I understand that he's been. . . spending time with you?" Delenn frowned, "Yes, Miss Winters?" Talia grew flustered, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry--" "Thank you, Miss Winters. Shall I meet you at the Zocalo?" "Yes, yes. Tomorrow at one p.m. Thank you." Talia left. Delenn returned to her reading. How very odd. As Michael Garibaldi might say: bizarre. +++ Garibaldi, off duty and in his quarters, spent the extra time needed to brew a pot of tea. Whistling, he explored the few supplies rattling around his cupboards until he found the tea. He supposed he was in a good mood. He felt a little guilty about being in a good mood when so much was going straight to Hell. But he decided he would enjoy it now and analyze it later. The door indicator chimed. "Come," Garibaldi called out cheerfully. Commander Ivanova entered. She was also off duty. "Michael, you would not believe what that woman did this time?" "I take it you are referring to Anna Sheridan, Commander?" Garibaldi intoned in mock-seriousness, "Where's your respect? Where's your 'let's-all-get-along' attitude? Where's--" "Stuff it! I'm not in the mood," Ivanova growled. "I'm just telling you what you have been telling me for the past six months," Garibaldi commented and handed Ivanova a mug of tea. "So, what happened?" Ivanova raised her eyebrows at the drink choice, but she didn't comment. "She kicked me out of my own office. She said she needed if for a meeting with some Mr. Morden." "Oh, really?" Garibaldi asked, thinking of what all Lena told him two nights ago. "Yeah," Ivanova sat down on the sofa. "But what was almost as odd was my lunch with Talia." "And?" Garibaldi asked, his detective senses tuned. It was good to be able to reason clearly again. He really should remember that before he went on his next drinking binge. "And? Talia's worried that you told Lena Maguere horrible things about her." "What? That's ridiculous." "Well, she said that she tried to talk to Lena when she was reading in the Garden, and that she sensed that she was 'somewhat withdrawn.'" Garibaldi thought back to what Lena said about Talia Winters being a spy and not knowing. So, of course, Lena wouldn't be chatty. "I'm sure it was just that Lena is behind on her preparations for the ITA conference. She had a rough couple of days--she's pulled out, but I imagine she has a lot of work to do." "Of course," Ivanova replied, but Garibaldi sensed that she scrutinized him for something more. "Are you enjoying your tea?" he asked, "We have a couple of hours left before the meeting." +++ Delenn waited patiently in her quarters for her visitor to arrive. She received the conference contract from Talia Winters, and decided that the whole incident was an annoyance staged by Clarence. Well, Delenn would deal with the situation tomorrow, if it still needed dealing with. Delenn's research brought her up to speed on what life on B5 without her had brought to the fight against the coming Darkness, and it was time that Delenn informed others. The door indicator chimed, her visitor had arrived. "Lennier, thank you for meeting with me," Delenn greeted her aide. "Ms. Maguere," Lennier stepped into her quarters, "I am glad your are feeling better." "Tea?" "Please, now, how may I help you?" Delenn motioned him to sit on the sofa. Then she handed him a folder and a data crystal. "I have some information you will need," Delenn told him. "And a message from Delenn. She intended to inform you with this sooner, but--" "Then you did know her?" Lennier interrupted. "Yes, I did. Now that she is no longer...here, one of two things will likely happen." Delenn waited until she was sure she had Lennier's complete attention before continuing. "One, if the Council follow the recommendation Delenn gave them, you will be appointed to the Grey Council--" "But that is impossible. I am too young to--" "You are older than Delenn was when she joined. You will be fine. But now that she's gone, well, there is no certainty that they will follow her recommendation. The other possibility is that Neroon will be appointed." Lennier frowned. "Yes, I know, it will place the Warrior Caste in control, but it is a possibility that Delenn discussed with me. In either case, Lennier, you have a great responsibility--if you choose to accept it." "Please continue." "Lennier, Delenn...should have trusted you with these things earlier. But she does trust you--did trust you--and whether you remain here on Babylon 5 or return to Minbar, the others will need your help--" "The Rangers?" Lennier asked. "Yes," Delenn replied, "the data crystal contains the information Delenn held and information about the political climate back home. The file contains everything I know that you may need to know to access certain databases, including Delenn's daily diaries. She updated them before she died." "Thank you, Ms. Maguere. I accept the responsibility. Just one question, though?" "Yes?" "Who else will have access to this information?" "Ambassador Sinclair and Mr. Garibaldi. Only you have access to the political files, however. Use your discretion." To be continued in the next post. . . . Copyright by Felicia Le Cou. All Rights Reserved, save for those already owned by others. Any comments please send to fmlecou@mailbox.syr.edu. Happy Holidays! From fmlecou@mailbox.syr.eduSat Dec 30 16:29:27 1995 Date: Fri, 29 Dec 1995 00:12:47 -0500 (EST) From: "Felicia M. Le Cou" Reply to: b5-creative@blob.best.net To: b5-creative@blob.best.net Subject: Be Careful What You Wish For, Part 9 (conclusion) Be Careful What You Wish For By Felicia Le Cou fmlecou@mailbox.syr.edu Part 9 Mr. Garibaldi checked his chronometer. "He should be here by now," he said. Ivanova shrugged, "I can call Corwin in C & C to find out if there are docking delays." "No, that might draw the wrong--" The door chimed. "Come," Garibaldi called out "Jeff, I was hoping you'd come knocking pretty soon." Ambassador Jeffrey Sinclair, on Babylon 5 for a very unofficial visit, looked as if he aged ten years since Garibaldi talked to him the other night. "Hello Michael, hello Susan," Sinclair spoke somberly, setting his satchel down inside the door. "Hello Jeff," Ivanova hugged her former C.O.; Garibaldi figured Sinclair needed a hug. "How was your trip?" Garibaldi asked, handing him a mug of tea. "Longer than I remember. Thank you for the tea. I'm sorry I'm not here under better circumstances...." +++ Delenn chimed Garibaldi's door, hoping he was in. Clarence hadn't appeared to her in two days now, and although, she was pretty sure, at this point, that he was some kind of dream, Delenn couldn't take the chance that he would reappear and whisk her out of existence before she had a chance to deliver her information. The door hissed open. "Lena!" Garibaldi, happy to see her, took her hand and led her into the room. Garibaldi had two visitors - Susan Ivanova and Jeffrey Sinclair. "I don't understand," she said to Garibaldi. "We were in the middle of a meeting, Ms. Maguere," Ivanova sounded annoyed. "If you could come back later?" "Susan--" Garibaldi began. "Wait. Please, I didn't mean to interrupt. I just needed to drop this off...and this is for Ambassador Sinclair," Delenn gave Garibaldi the second data crystal. Sinclair scrutinized Delenn, puzzled. "I know you, don't I?" "Jeff, this is Lena Maguere," Garibaldi introduced. "She was on Minbar about a month ago? Perhaps--" "No, that's not it...," Sinclair stepped closer to Delenn. Frowning, distracted, he asked, "What's on the data crystal?" Delenn glanced at Ivanova, who chose that moment to drink her tea; then at Garibaldi, who raised his eyebrows. He had the same question. "I spoke with Mr. Garibaldi about how no one knew as much as what Delenn knew about the coming struggle," Delenn began. "She did not plan to not...be involved. And while she should have disclosed sooner, there didn't seem to be the need. Anyway, all the information you need to coordinate the Rangers is there, on the data crystal." Delenn paused again. "That's all, I'll go now." But Sinclair continued to look at her curiously, as if he might-- As if he might recognize her? "Delenn died two nights ago," Sinclair began speaking, holding eye contact with Delenn. "She died, I could have prevented her death, but do you know what she did?" Delenn didn't answer. "Well, do you?" "No." "She forbid me to interfere. And when I knew I needed to, the others wouldn't let me in. Not until it was too late." "Jeff, take it easy," Garibaldi tensely said. "Why are you telling me this?" Delenn asked, tears threatening to emerge from behind her eyes. "Because," and Sinclair's voice softened as he approached her. "Because I feel as if I am seeing a ghost, right here. You look like her, but you're not her. You sound like her. But I know she's dead, because I'm the one who found her after that Godforsaken test!" Delenn couldn't stop her lip from quivering. She had tried to find one person, just one, on Babylon 5 who would recognize her. In the course of that search, she discovered that John Sheridan was probably dead, and his shadow-agent wife was probably plotting against the cause of the light. And, after a while, Delenn had accepted that no one on Babylon 5 knew her as anyone but Lena Maguere. But how come Jeffrey Sinclair could see her? Almost know her? After living in near anonymity for the past few days, this attention was overwhelming. "Lena?" Garibaldi appeared worried. "Are you all right?" "Do you want to sit down?" Ivanova asked. But Delenn didn't really hear either of them. Her full attention focused on Sinclair. "She didn't want you to interfere," Delenn began uncertainly, starting to cry, "because if she was fated to die, she didn't want that fate to include you." And then everything might be lost, Delenn thought silently. "But why?" Sinclair reached out to touch Delenn's arm, "Why couldn't she...realize that she didn't have to do everything alone?" "I don't know," Delenn cried. Sinclair supported her as she sobbed into his shoulder. "I'm sorry, I didn't think. It's my fault." Sinclair's hand held her at the back of the neck. "How can it be your fault?" Sinclair asked. He sounded confused as well. "Because," she explained. "Because, there was a decision--and I made the wrong one. Everything is wrong, everyone has paid! I wish I could change it...." Then things changed, and Delenn didn't know what changed first. She didn't see how they changed because her eyes were still buried in Sinclair's shoulder. She felt and heard it more than anything else: the change in air pressure, the slight roaring in her ears. Then, the cool winds brushed past her face, across the back of her neck, signalling that Sinclair's hand no longer rested there. "It's time to go now, Delenn," spoke Clarence. Delenn opened her eyes. Sinclair was gone. Garibaldi and Ivanova were gone. Garibaldi's quarters were gone. All that remained was Delenn, in her simple green dress, surrounded by a blue effervescent mist which extend far below where her feet touched an unseen surface. And in front of her stood Clarence, his hand held out, his thin white hair neatly combed, and dressed in an old dark- blue suite that was too vast for his small frame. The pant leggings bunched up at his feet. "I thought you were a dream," Delenn quietly said as she placed her hand in his. Clarence cleared his throat, looking apologetic, gently tugging on Delenn's arm as he led her into the mist. The light stayed with them; the blue effervescence faded to darkness at the edge of Delenn's vision. "I should apologize," Clarence told her, "I got a little sidetracked, and I'm afraid things got out of hand. It's not your fault," he quickly added, "I shouldn't have told you not to interfere and then left you alone. But, you know, deadlines...." They began descending translucent stairs. Delenn yearned to ask where they were going, or why. She still did not completely understand what was happening. She understood only that she must be dead, and her soul free of her body. She died in the changed reality because of a test, and in the reality she remembered she was about to undertake the same test. She died, or would probably die, regardless of whether or not she chose to accept the Grey Council's leadership decision. Her alternate self died because she was unwilling to trust, to share information, and no one knew what dangers she faced. Perhaps she didn't see the danger herself, so convinced that she was the right person, in the right place, in the right time. Maybe she wasn't. But even if she was fated to die on Babylon 5, reality in a universe where she left, never entering Chrysalis--seeing such a universe pained her. John Sheridan surely died when he was captured by the Streibs, because no one on Babylon 5 had the necessary information needed for his rescue. His wife, mysteriously returning after, was certainly planning the Rangers' destruction. And Michael.... Well, she gave Michael Garibaldi all the information she could to help the struggle against the Darkness. It would be up to him to use it. "We have one more stop before returning you back to Babylon 5," Clarence said, stopping. He grandly waved a hand across the mist before them; it swirled closer around, and then drifted away leaving behind a starscaped sea of endless space. of endless space. And in floating in the starscape was a Minbari flyer. The flyer she travelled in to meet the Grey Council one final time before her transformation. Delenn watched the flyer, sitting stationary in space. She remembered that after she turned on the beacon, allowing the Council to locate her, she fell asleep as she waited. She knew that an earlier version of herself rested in the flyer now. She turned to Clarence, "I don't understand." "When I pulled you from your reality you were wishing that you made a certain decision differently. So I tinkered a little, and you made the decision differently. But now, now that you've seen what things would be, do you still wish to change that decision? "No," Delenn said. "I made the correct decision the first time, I wish I could...." She didn't finish her sentence, and even if did the rising sound of ringing bells would have drowned her out. Clarence smiled, then nodded, waving his hand once more. A white flash enveloped them both, blinding Delenn. When she could see again she stood in her quarters, the quarters she had as Ambassador Delenn, not as Lena Maguere. The date and time displayed on the chronometer showed the same time as before Clarence entered her life and whisked her off to a nightmare. Perhaps it was only a dream, after all. But this dream held too many experiences. Closing her eyes and breathing deeply, memory of the past few days flooded over her. The test, her fear, her gratitude to the Universe that she learned to trust others--more than she ever would have before her change. And although she didn't know precisely what the future would bring, she knew that the present struggle against the Darkness remained strengthened by her past choices. "I hope this qualifies for recertification," Clarence's voice rang throughout the room. And then Delenn heard another bell. END Copyright by Felicia Le Cou. All Rights Reserved, save for those already owned by others. Any comments please send to fmlecou@mailbox.syr.edu. Happy Holidays!