Babylon 5 Fanfiction - Mars Rising -(part 5)
Disclaimer: Babylon 5 belongs to the Great Maker, JMS, I'm just playing in the sandbox a while. No copyright infringement is intended and no money was made from this. Any similarity to any other story not my own is coincidence.
Title: Mars Rising
Genre: Babylon 5 fanfic; AU; Drama/melodrama
Rating: PG-13; rated for swearing, violence/torture
Timeline: After the end of the 5 season, but before "Sleeping in Light," shortly after they have begun to set up the Alliance and before the birth of John and Delenn's son.
Author's Notes: This is one of my only attempts at something with a plot, so to speak, or drama, so... *grin* There are also probably bits and pieces of inspiration from various sources and the Minbari language is a mix of "canon" and what sounded right to my ear. It is the last old B5 fanfic I have left to archive.
Story breaks are indicated by boldface and ellipses. I've also split it up to make the post a bit more manageable.
It Begins
On the Maria
The Plot Thickens
Negotiations
John woke to the sound of machinery humming. His head was pounding, and it felt as if his limbs were made of lead. His arms were very effectively tied behind his back and his legs were tied together at the ankles with a rough rope. A blindfold kept him sightless and a gag had been placed in his mouth.
He was shifting, testing the bonds that held him tight, when he heard the soft voice next to his chair, "You are quite secure. If you struggle, I am certain that you will only hurt yourself, and that's our job."
Hands removed the gag from his mouth and held a glass to his lips.
"Drink," the telepath said, "I assure you, it will not kill you. Not yet, we need you alive."
John refused to drink anything, holding himself still in the chair.
The cup was removed and he felt a stinging slap across the left side of his face. The cup was placed to his lips again and the voice spoke once more, "When you are given a direction, I suggest that you follow it."
Again, John refused to drink from the cup, and there was another slap across the other side of his face. When still he refused, he felt a pressure begin to build in his mind.
"I will tell you one more time Mr. President, drink, or a slap is not the worst that you will get. I assure you, it will not kill you, but continue to refuse, and you will know pain."
Suddenly, the pressure in his mind ceased, and he heard a gasp from the person in the room with him.
In a rusty voice, thick with the remainder of the drugs that they had given him, John said, "Stay out of my mind."
"I told you that it wouldn't work," said another voice, this one a man's rough bass, directed to whomever had slapped John. Then directed to John himself, "That's right isn't Mr. President? You were touched by the Vorlons, and no one comes into contact with the Vorlons without being changed. That's okay though, we have other ways. You will give us what we want." Then he addressed the other person again, "Leave us now, I will call you if I require assistance."
John heard steps on a hard floor moving away from him and his unseen companion. A door at the far end of a small sounding room opened and closed as the other person with the cup left. He heard the man begin to pace carefully back and forth before him.
"I'm debating how much to tell you Mr. Sheridan. Of course, in order to get what we want, I have to tell you some things. But how much? How much do you need to know, and how much is too much?" The man spoke in his deep voice.
The man continued to pace a few moments in silence before he spoke once more, "Of course, I'm certain that you believe that you will escape. 'The first duty of every prisoner is to escape' and all that. I assure you, there is no escape, whether you believe that or not is of no concern to me, simply know that it is true, no matter what you believe."
The man stopped and only the sound of machinery could be heard. For several moments there was nothing else forthcoming from John's captor, then, "Let's put this simply," he said suddenly. "We want a home-world of our own. Earth, Mars, none of them can, or will give us one. The Interstellar Alliance can. We want to have a home-world of our own, free from Psi Corps and free from Mundanes. We're tired Mr. Sheridan. Tired of being your chattel, and tired of being cannon fodder for Mr. Bester and his Psi Corps. We don't want to be in his little war. We could give a damn what happens to Earth or Mars. We just want someplace of our own, away from all you damn Mundanes." John's captor paused once more for several moments before continuing, "We are going to hold you for ransom. A planet for us, and you go free. If we are denied, you're dead. As simple as that."
With that, the man walked across the room, leaving John by himself...
"What do you mean that none of your Security saw anything?" Theresa demanded, coming face to face with Major Harrison as they stood in a small conference room with Speaker Winter, President Luchenko, and E'da Se'k Taloryn.
"I mean exactly that Ms. Halloran. None of my men and women saw anything. Nor are they responsible for this. I am in charge of the Security detail for President Luchenko, who, as you can see, is quite safe. He's responsible for President Sheridan," Major Harrison said, indicating E'da Se'k Taloryn.
"I said that I did not see why we were using a Minbari military force for security at these conferences," the young officer added darkly.
Theresa looked as if she was about to say more, but before she could do so, President Luchenko spoke, "Ms. Halloran, while I understand your concern, and am certain that we all share in it, Major Harrison is correct, it is not his duty to see to the safety of President Sheridan. I will not have you or your staff questioning the capabilities of my own." Susanna Luchenko looked to where the Intelligence Head stood. "I do offer the cooperation and help of my staff for the search and recovery of President Sheridan. Major Harrison, please see to helping Ms. Halloran and E'da Se'k Taloryn in coordinating an investigation of this matter."
A look of disgust so brief as to be almost unnoticeable flashed across the young officer's face before it was just as quickly suppressed. "Yes, Ma'am," Major Harrison said, giving President Luchenko a crisp salute. He turned back to Ms. Halloran and spoke in a curt voice, "I will speak to my people again in regards to anything that they may recall having seen and return to you with any information in a few hours. I trust that we can coordinate any other joint efforts in this matter at that time?"
Theresa looked over to E'da Se'k Taloryn, who nodded slightly, then back to Major Harrison, "Thank you, Major." Next she turned to the Heads of State, "Madame President, Mr. Speaker, thank you, if you will excuse me, I will begin to see to efforts to discover what has happened to President Sheridan." With that, the Head of Covert Intelligence exited the room, followed by E'da Se'k Taloryn, who bowed briefly as he left. Major Harrison followed suit, saluting President Luchenko as he left the room as well...
"What are we going to do, Sir?" asked Lieutenant McDonald.
"Exactly what the President has ordered of course, lieutenant," Major Harrison replied calmly.
"But, Sir," the lieutenant objected nervously.
"Are you questioning me, lieutenant?" Jeremy Harrison spoke coldly to the man.
"No, Sir," Lieutenant McDonald answered.
Jeremy looked to the other Security officer with them, "And you, Lieutenant Enriquez? Do you have anything to add?"
"No, Sir," the dark haired man answered, "Earth First, Sir."
Major Harrison nodded, pleased. "You are both true patriots. As long as people like you stand up for Earth, she will remain free from alien corruption. History will remember us gentlemen, as true sons of Earth, willing to do anything it takes to keep our planet free of alien influences and alien governments. Dismissed."
"Yes, Sir," both junior officers said and saluted as they headed out of the small offices provided to Major Harrison.
As soon as the other two men had left, Jeremy turned to the comm screen. He had adjusted a secure frequency for the comm that would allow him to talk freely with his contacts on Earth. He accessed this now and the image of an older distinguished man came up on the screen. General Alexander Harrison looked impeccable in his blue Earth Force uniform, the left breast of which was covered in the marks of honor of his rank and service. His silver hair and beard were finely trimmed and his blue eyes were severe and intense as he regarded his son.
"Report," the general said in a deep voice.
"The first part of my mission is complete, Sir," Jeremy reported to his father, his own voice pitched to match the deep severity of the older man's. "I do not anticipate any difficulties with implementing the second half, though I do admit to some reluctance to do so, Sir. Is it really necessary? Lieutenants McDonald and Enriquez are both good men and officers."
"Are you questioning my orders, Major?" the general asked, unknowingly echoing his son's own earlier words to his officers.
"No, Sir. Of course not," Jeremy replied promptly.
The general sighed with apparent sympathy and sincerity. "It's never easy, son. No one likes to do it. We take responsibility for the lives of the men and women beneath us. Of course you don't want to sacrifice your men. But they would agree that it is the right thing to do if they knew. If Sheridan's allies think that your men helped the telepaths because of their family ties to them, then any possible suspicion will fall squarely on them. Earth First will have no chance of being implicated, and continue to be free to fight for Earth's freedom from alien influenced people like Sheridan and his allies. And with Sheridan out of the way, we can hope that President Luchenko will see reason. Earth cannot join Sheridan's Alliance," the general concluded.
"Of course, Sir. I understand, Sir," Jeremy spoke formally. "I will report when the second phase of my mission has been completed."
"Good luck, Major," General Harrison told his son and closed down the comm.
Jeremy Harrison sighed softly, then set about preparing the proof that would be needed to implicate his officers in the kidnapping and delivering of Sheridan to the telepath resistance...
John Sheridan was bleeding. Several small cuts covered his exposed flesh. None of the cuts were life threatening, but the blood covered his skin in dark rivulets, some darker and older, other cuts fresh and still bleeding. The dusky Martian light of the second morning of John's captivity blinded his eyes when blood did not cover them. And through blood, light, and pain, Sheridan watched the small woman that stood facing him, a knife held loosely in her delicate hand. Her blonde hair was held back in a short pony tail and her blue eyes were as pleasant as if she were having a simple conversation, and not torturing the man before her.
Almost casually, the woman slipped her hand forward with the knife and repeated one of a dozen questions that she had been attempting to get Sheridan to answer, "Where do you have Carolyn Sanderson," referring to Bester's still cryogenically frozen lover. Another slip of the knife, another question, "Where is Lyta Alexander?"
A man opened the door behind her and walked over to where she stood. Lightly, he placed a hand on her shoulder, a look of mild concentration on his face as he spoke to her telepathically. The woman nodded slightly, and left the room, leaving the man alone with the captive.
"She's really rather good isn't she? It looks far worse than it really is Mr. President. You see, we believe that you possess some information that we would like very much to have. And of course, we need something to show your people that we are serious," he explained as if compelled to do so. With that said, the man took pictures of the bleeding man before him, as calmly as the woman had tortured him.
John looked back at his captor through the welter of blood about his face, his eyes defiant.
"You brought this upon yourself you know. Had you simply given us a homeworld when Byron asked, none of this would be happening now," the telepath said reasonably.
"The Alliance refuses to give in to the demands of terrorists," John said, a quiet determination in his voice.
"And how else do you propose that we get your government's attention, Mr President? No, too long have the governments of the mudanes used us for their own purposes. Too long have we been denied even the most basic of human rights, freedom from our oppressors. No more, Mr. President. And we will do whatever it takes to see that your government listens. If you die here, remember, it is because of your government, because they would not listen." And with that, the telepath began to leave the room. He opened the door, but before he left, he spoke quietly," Someone will be in to get you cleaned up and provide some food. I suggest you take this for the kindness that it is." Then he was out the door, closing it behind himself...
"Anything?" Theresa asked the elder Minbari standing before her.
"Nothing as of yet," E'da Se'k Taloryn answered. "I have all the available Anla'shok seeking information on the whereabouts of President Sheridan."
"Damn it," the Intelligence agent swore with feeling. She looked to the elder Minbari, "How can you be so calm about this?" she asked fiercely.
"The Universe knows what it is doing, Ms. Halloran. All we can attempt to do is listen, and the Universe will provide us with all the answers that we need," Taloryn said with calm conviction.
"Well, I wish the Universe would speak up because I sure as hell don't want to be the one to tell Entilza Delenn that her husband is..." Theresa stopped before she completed the statement.
The elder Minbari looked with sympathy to the human woman and bowed before he left the room. Theresa sighed and dropped into a chair behind a desk in the small office that she was using. A chime came at the office door.
"Enter," Theresa said.
As the door opened, Ms Belo entered the room. The Ranger looked very solemn as she set a small data crystal on the desk in front of the Intelligence Head.
"Some of our Rangers just found this," the young Ranger explained.
Theresa rose and placed the data crystal in the open information port of the comm screen on the north wall of the office. On the screen appeared the image of a much battered and bruised Sheridan. He was covered in blood from the many cuts all over his skin and his breathing seemed somewhat shallow.
A deep male voice started speaking over the image, "As you can see, the President is still alive for now. As you can also see, the request that I am going to ask you should be taken very seriously. We will release President Sheridan back to you, when we receive certain assurances from his government that we will obtain a homeplanet of our own, free from Psi Corps and Mundanes. Be assured, as long as our demands are met, we have no intention of killing the president. But the longer this takes, the more he will know pain, and I can assure you, we know a great deal about how much pain one can receive and still live, after all, mundanes have been doing it to us for years.
You can give us an answer by sending someone to Central Park, Mars Dome 1 at any time. But keep in mind, the longer this takes, the less I can guarantee that Mr. Sheridan will be returned in a pleasant condition. Oh, and if you think that you can trick or capture us, just remember, we don't need the president then, and he'll be dead before you ever find us all." The image faded to black.
Theresa turned to the Ranger. "Where did you find this?"
"We discovered it this afternoon on the body of a dead Psi Cop in the transport tube for this dome. I brought it to you as soon as we found it and examined the area. We found nothing but the Psi Cop and the crystal. No other trace of whoever put them there," the Ranger answered grimly.
"I want this crystal examined. I want to know anything we can find out about who these people are, and where the president is," Theresa said, her voice determined.
"I'll see to it now," the Ranger said and stepped out of the office on her way to complete her assigned task...
On to Part 6 ---->
Title: Mars Rising
Genre: Babylon 5 fanfic; AU; Drama/melodrama
Rating: PG-13; rated for swearing, violence/torture
Timeline: After the end of the 5 season, but before "Sleeping in Light," shortly after they have begun to set up the Alliance and before the birth of John and Delenn's son.
Author's Notes: This is one of my only attempts at something with a plot, so to speak, or drama, so... *grin* There are also probably bits and pieces of inspiration from various sources and the Minbari language is a mix of "canon" and what sounded right to my ear. It is the last old B5 fanfic I have left to archive.
Story breaks are indicated by boldface and ellipses. I've also split it up to make the post a bit more manageable.
It Begins
On the Maria
The Plot Thickens
Negotiations
John woke to the sound of machinery humming. His head was pounding, and it felt as if his limbs were made of lead. His arms were very effectively tied behind his back and his legs were tied together at the ankles with a rough rope. A blindfold kept him sightless and a gag had been placed in his mouth.
He was shifting, testing the bonds that held him tight, when he heard the soft voice next to his chair, "You are quite secure. If you struggle, I am certain that you will only hurt yourself, and that's our job."
Hands removed the gag from his mouth and held a glass to his lips.
"Drink," the telepath said, "I assure you, it will not kill you. Not yet, we need you alive."
John refused to drink anything, holding himself still in the chair.
The cup was removed and he felt a stinging slap across the left side of his face. The cup was placed to his lips again and the voice spoke once more, "When you are given a direction, I suggest that you follow it."
Again, John refused to drink from the cup, and there was another slap across the other side of his face. When still he refused, he felt a pressure begin to build in his mind.
"I will tell you one more time Mr. President, drink, or a slap is not the worst that you will get. I assure you, it will not kill you, but continue to refuse, and you will know pain."
Suddenly, the pressure in his mind ceased, and he heard a gasp from the person in the room with him.
In a rusty voice, thick with the remainder of the drugs that they had given him, John said, "Stay out of my mind."
"I told you that it wouldn't work," said another voice, this one a man's rough bass, directed to whomever had slapped John. Then directed to John himself, "That's right isn't Mr. President? You were touched by the Vorlons, and no one comes into contact with the Vorlons without being changed. That's okay though, we have other ways. You will give us what we want." Then he addressed the other person again, "Leave us now, I will call you if I require assistance."
John heard steps on a hard floor moving away from him and his unseen companion. A door at the far end of a small sounding room opened and closed as the other person with the cup left. He heard the man begin to pace carefully back and forth before him.
"I'm debating how much to tell you Mr. Sheridan. Of course, in order to get what we want, I have to tell you some things. But how much? How much do you need to know, and how much is too much?" The man spoke in his deep voice.
The man continued to pace a few moments in silence before he spoke once more, "Of course, I'm certain that you believe that you will escape. 'The first duty of every prisoner is to escape' and all that. I assure you, there is no escape, whether you believe that or not is of no concern to me, simply know that it is true, no matter what you believe."
The man stopped and only the sound of machinery could be heard. For several moments there was nothing else forthcoming from John's captor, then, "Let's put this simply," he said suddenly. "We want a home-world of our own. Earth, Mars, none of them can, or will give us one. The Interstellar Alliance can. We want to have a home-world of our own, free from Psi Corps and free from Mundanes. We're tired Mr. Sheridan. Tired of being your chattel, and tired of being cannon fodder for Mr. Bester and his Psi Corps. We don't want to be in his little war. We could give a damn what happens to Earth or Mars. We just want someplace of our own, away from all you damn Mundanes." John's captor paused once more for several moments before continuing, "We are going to hold you for ransom. A planet for us, and you go free. If we are denied, you're dead. As simple as that."
With that, the man walked across the room, leaving John by himself...
"What do you mean that none of your Security saw anything?" Theresa demanded, coming face to face with Major Harrison as they stood in a small conference room with Speaker Winter, President Luchenko, and E'da Se'k Taloryn.
"I mean exactly that Ms. Halloran. None of my men and women saw anything. Nor are they responsible for this. I am in charge of the Security detail for President Luchenko, who, as you can see, is quite safe. He's responsible for President Sheridan," Major Harrison said, indicating E'da Se'k Taloryn.
"I said that I did not see why we were using a Minbari military force for security at these conferences," the young officer added darkly.
Theresa looked as if she was about to say more, but before she could do so, President Luchenko spoke, "Ms. Halloran, while I understand your concern, and am certain that we all share in it, Major Harrison is correct, it is not his duty to see to the safety of President Sheridan. I will not have you or your staff questioning the capabilities of my own." Susanna Luchenko looked to where the Intelligence Head stood. "I do offer the cooperation and help of my staff for the search and recovery of President Sheridan. Major Harrison, please see to helping Ms. Halloran and E'da Se'k Taloryn in coordinating an investigation of this matter."
A look of disgust so brief as to be almost unnoticeable flashed across the young officer's face before it was just as quickly suppressed. "Yes, Ma'am," Major Harrison said, giving President Luchenko a crisp salute. He turned back to Ms. Halloran and spoke in a curt voice, "I will speak to my people again in regards to anything that they may recall having seen and return to you with any information in a few hours. I trust that we can coordinate any other joint efforts in this matter at that time?"
Theresa looked over to E'da Se'k Taloryn, who nodded slightly, then back to Major Harrison, "Thank you, Major." Next she turned to the Heads of State, "Madame President, Mr. Speaker, thank you, if you will excuse me, I will begin to see to efforts to discover what has happened to President Sheridan." With that, the Head of Covert Intelligence exited the room, followed by E'da Se'k Taloryn, who bowed briefly as he left. Major Harrison followed suit, saluting President Luchenko as he left the room as well...
"What are we going to do, Sir?" asked Lieutenant McDonald.
"Exactly what the President has ordered of course, lieutenant," Major Harrison replied calmly.
"But, Sir," the lieutenant objected nervously.
"Are you questioning me, lieutenant?" Jeremy Harrison spoke coldly to the man.
"No, Sir," Lieutenant McDonald answered.
Jeremy looked to the other Security officer with them, "And you, Lieutenant Enriquez? Do you have anything to add?"
"No, Sir," the dark haired man answered, "Earth First, Sir."
Major Harrison nodded, pleased. "You are both true patriots. As long as people like you stand up for Earth, she will remain free from alien corruption. History will remember us gentlemen, as true sons of Earth, willing to do anything it takes to keep our planet free of alien influences and alien governments. Dismissed."
"Yes, Sir," both junior officers said and saluted as they headed out of the small offices provided to Major Harrison.
As soon as the other two men had left, Jeremy turned to the comm screen. He had adjusted a secure frequency for the comm that would allow him to talk freely with his contacts on Earth. He accessed this now and the image of an older distinguished man came up on the screen. General Alexander Harrison looked impeccable in his blue Earth Force uniform, the left breast of which was covered in the marks of honor of his rank and service. His silver hair and beard were finely trimmed and his blue eyes were severe and intense as he regarded his son.
"Report," the general said in a deep voice.
"The first part of my mission is complete, Sir," Jeremy reported to his father, his own voice pitched to match the deep severity of the older man's. "I do not anticipate any difficulties with implementing the second half, though I do admit to some reluctance to do so, Sir. Is it really necessary? Lieutenants McDonald and Enriquez are both good men and officers."
"Are you questioning my orders, Major?" the general asked, unknowingly echoing his son's own earlier words to his officers.
"No, Sir. Of course not," Jeremy replied promptly.
The general sighed with apparent sympathy and sincerity. "It's never easy, son. No one likes to do it. We take responsibility for the lives of the men and women beneath us. Of course you don't want to sacrifice your men. But they would agree that it is the right thing to do if they knew. If Sheridan's allies think that your men helped the telepaths because of their family ties to them, then any possible suspicion will fall squarely on them. Earth First will have no chance of being implicated, and continue to be free to fight for Earth's freedom from alien influenced people like Sheridan and his allies. And with Sheridan out of the way, we can hope that President Luchenko will see reason. Earth cannot join Sheridan's Alliance," the general concluded.
"Of course, Sir. I understand, Sir," Jeremy spoke formally. "I will report when the second phase of my mission has been completed."
"Good luck, Major," General Harrison told his son and closed down the comm.
Jeremy Harrison sighed softly, then set about preparing the proof that would be needed to implicate his officers in the kidnapping and delivering of Sheridan to the telepath resistance...
John Sheridan was bleeding. Several small cuts covered his exposed flesh. None of the cuts were life threatening, but the blood covered his skin in dark rivulets, some darker and older, other cuts fresh and still bleeding. The dusky Martian light of the second morning of John's captivity blinded his eyes when blood did not cover them. And through blood, light, and pain, Sheridan watched the small woman that stood facing him, a knife held loosely in her delicate hand. Her blonde hair was held back in a short pony tail and her blue eyes were as pleasant as if she were having a simple conversation, and not torturing the man before her.
Almost casually, the woman slipped her hand forward with the knife and repeated one of a dozen questions that she had been attempting to get Sheridan to answer, "Where do you have Carolyn Sanderson," referring to Bester's still cryogenically frozen lover. Another slip of the knife, another question, "Where is Lyta Alexander?"
A man opened the door behind her and walked over to where she stood. Lightly, he placed a hand on her shoulder, a look of mild concentration on his face as he spoke to her telepathically. The woman nodded slightly, and left the room, leaving the man alone with the captive.
"She's really rather good isn't she? It looks far worse than it really is Mr. President. You see, we believe that you possess some information that we would like very much to have. And of course, we need something to show your people that we are serious," he explained as if compelled to do so. With that said, the man took pictures of the bleeding man before him, as calmly as the woman had tortured him.
John looked back at his captor through the welter of blood about his face, his eyes defiant.
"You brought this upon yourself you know. Had you simply given us a homeworld when Byron asked, none of this would be happening now," the telepath said reasonably.
"The Alliance refuses to give in to the demands of terrorists," John said, a quiet determination in his voice.
"And how else do you propose that we get your government's attention, Mr President? No, too long have the governments of the mudanes used us for their own purposes. Too long have we been denied even the most basic of human rights, freedom from our oppressors. No more, Mr. President. And we will do whatever it takes to see that your government listens. If you die here, remember, it is because of your government, because they would not listen." And with that, the telepath began to leave the room. He opened the door, but before he left, he spoke quietly," Someone will be in to get you cleaned up and provide some food. I suggest you take this for the kindness that it is." Then he was out the door, closing it behind himself...
"Anything?" Theresa asked the elder Minbari standing before her.
"Nothing as of yet," E'da Se'k Taloryn answered. "I have all the available Anla'shok seeking information on the whereabouts of President Sheridan."
"Damn it," the Intelligence agent swore with feeling. She looked to the elder Minbari, "How can you be so calm about this?" she asked fiercely.
"The Universe knows what it is doing, Ms. Halloran. All we can attempt to do is listen, and the Universe will provide us with all the answers that we need," Taloryn said with calm conviction.
"Well, I wish the Universe would speak up because I sure as hell don't want to be the one to tell Entilza Delenn that her husband is..." Theresa stopped before she completed the statement.
The elder Minbari looked with sympathy to the human woman and bowed before he left the room. Theresa sighed and dropped into a chair behind a desk in the small office that she was using. A chime came at the office door.
"Enter," Theresa said.
As the door opened, Ms Belo entered the room. The Ranger looked very solemn as she set a small data crystal on the desk in front of the Intelligence Head.
"Some of our Rangers just found this," the young Ranger explained.
Theresa rose and placed the data crystal in the open information port of the comm screen on the north wall of the office. On the screen appeared the image of a much battered and bruised Sheridan. He was covered in blood from the many cuts all over his skin and his breathing seemed somewhat shallow.
A deep male voice started speaking over the image, "As you can see, the President is still alive for now. As you can also see, the request that I am going to ask you should be taken very seriously. We will release President Sheridan back to you, when we receive certain assurances from his government that we will obtain a homeplanet of our own, free from Psi Corps and Mundanes. Be assured, as long as our demands are met, we have no intention of killing the president. But the longer this takes, the more he will know pain, and I can assure you, we know a great deal about how much pain one can receive and still live, after all, mundanes have been doing it to us for years.
You can give us an answer by sending someone to Central Park, Mars Dome 1 at any time. But keep in mind, the longer this takes, the less I can guarantee that Mr. Sheridan will be returned in a pleasant condition. Oh, and if you think that you can trick or capture us, just remember, we don't need the president then, and he'll be dead before you ever find us all." The image faded to black.
Theresa turned to the Ranger. "Where did you find this?"
"We discovered it this afternoon on the body of a dead Psi Cop in the transport tube for this dome. I brought it to you as soon as we found it and examined the area. We found nothing but the Psi Cop and the crystal. No other trace of whoever put them there," the Ranger answered grimly.
"I want this crystal examined. I want to know anything we can find out about who these people are, and where the president is," Theresa said, her voice determined.
"I'll see to it now," the Ranger said and stepped out of the office on her way to complete her assigned task...
On to Part 6 ---->