Kansas 2 - The Yellow Brick Road, Part 26
Title: Kansas 2 - The Yellow Brick Road
Author: Soledad
Author’s notes: For disclaimer, rating, etc., see the secondary index page.
Some of the dialogue is quoted from the episode “Z’ha’Dum”, swapped around between characters with slight modifications. The device, of course, is from “The Quality of Mercy”, originally.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
PART 26 - 20 December 2260
Kes offered to accompany Dr. Hobbs and Sam Wildman to Babylon 5; allegedly to help them pack together Lillian’s belongings. Her true motivation, however, was to learn more about Anna Sheridan - or rather the creature that once had been Anna Sheridan but clearly no longer was.
Thus it served her purpose very well that Lillian left the packing to Sam (not that there would have been much to pack) and went to Captain Sheridan’s office to hand in her resignation.
“I’d like to tag along,” she said. “I hope to learn more about the captain’s wife… and why she’s returned right now.”
“If the captain catches you poking around in his head, he’s not going to react well,” Lillian warned.
“Then I’ll have to be careful, so that he won’t catch me,” Kes replied with a serene smile.
Lillian shrugged. “It’s your funeral. Don’t say I haven’t warned you.”
“Duly noted,” Kes smiled again, and then they headed for Sheridan’s office.
They arrived just in time to catch the end of a conversation between Sheridan and Garibaldi… well, Kes did, with a bit of telepathic help, as they were talking very, very quietly.
“Michael, when I first came here, I wasn't sure about you,” Sheridan was saying. “You weren't sure about me. Since then, I have come to trust you, to rely on you. Now, I need you to take care of this for me. No questions, no speculations, hunches, or educated guesses. All right?”
According to Garibaldi’s inner turmoil, it - whatever it was - was as far from ‘all right’ as humanly possible. But after a moment, he nodded reluctantly.
“Good!” Sheridan said in obvious relief. “And when I see you next, if everything is set… we'll talk about the weather.”
“Yes, sir,” Garibaldi replied unhappily and left. He didn’t even spot the two women waiting to enter, which clearly showed how upset he was. His situation awareness worked much better as a rule.
Lillian exchanged a worried look with Kes.
“What was that about, did you get a hint?” the doctor asked.
Kes shook her head. “No. But I felt a great urgency from Captain Sheridan… and determination. We should hurry up.”
“No time like the present,” Lillian said philosophically and pushed the buzzer.
“Enter!” it came from inside, and the door opened. Sheridan was holstering his PPG as they entered, and looked at them in surprise. “Doctor Hobbs? Is something wrong with Stephen… I mean Doctor Franklin?”
“No, Captain,” Lillian suppressed the flare of anger with practiced ease. Of course it had to be all about Franklin, as usual. “This is a personal matter.”
“Can it wait? I’m in a bit of hurry right now.”
“It won’t take long,” Lillian laid the comp-pad she was holding onto his desk. “I’ve just come to hand in my resignation from the MedLabs of Babylon 5.”
That caught his attention, despite being preoccupied. “You’re serious.”
“I’ve never been more serious in my life, Captain.”
“But… why now? You chose to stay with us when we severed ties with Earth. You must have believed it was the right thing to do…” Sheridan trailed off, clearly flabbergasted.
“I have,” Lillian agreed. “I still do. I just don’t think I could work alongside my boss any longer.”
“Franklin?” Sheridan was even more flabbergasted than before. “You are leaving because of Franklin?”
“As I said, Captain, it is a personal matter; and it has been a long way coming. Small things kept piling up, one after another; and then he left without telling us anything, and then he came back the same way and took over again without as much as a thank-you for the rest of us who’d worked in his place from one crisis to the next and the next and the next… I just can’t do this anymore.”
“But where are you planning to go?” Sheridan asked. “You can’t return to Earth; it would be too dangerous.”
“I’m not planning to,” Lillian decided to drop the bombshell and was really looking forward to his reaction. “I’m removing to Voyager. I’ve applied for a job - and got it.”
The reaction was everything she had hoped for - and then some. For a moment Sheridan was absolutely speechless, He opened and closed his mouth several times, unable to speak.
“Is this about Commander Chakotay?” he finally asked.
“No,” Lillian replied coldly. “It is about me, wanting to be treated as the doctor I am, instead of a third-class med tech.”
Sheridan shook his head in bewilderment… and noticed Kes’ presence for the first time. Telepathic camouflage could be a handy tool sometimes.
“Is that why you are here?” he asked.
“Oh, I’m just tagging along,” Kes replied brightly. “It was my idea in the first place, after all.”
Then she suddenly felt it: a tug, familiar yet utterly different. Similar to when the Vorlon ship called out to her; similar to the feeling of the Vorlon ambassador’s presence, but something else nonetheless. The faint echo of a once great power, weakened yet still there.
And its source was clearly Sheridan.
“Doctor, I think you should go and help Ensign Wildman pack your stuff,” she said, not leaving the human out of her sight for a moment. “It seems the captain and I have something important to discuss.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Janeway was greatly concerned by the warning that had found its roundabout way from the Shadow agent through Vir through Rastenn through Neroon through Chakotay to her. Especially its vagueness concerned her.
“Do you have any idea what to expect?” she asked.
Chakotay nodded. “Alyt Neroon believes that the Shadows are planning an all-out attack against Babylon 5, should their puppet fail to lure Captain Sheridan to Z’ha’dum.”
“You mean his wife?” Rollins asked with a frown.
“Or the person who once was his wife,” Chakotay corrected. “The Minbari say that no-one escapes Z’ha’dum; not unchanged, at least. And Lillian says Doctor Franklin found some scarring on the back of her head; at the same place where the Shadowtech implants usually are.”
“But no actual implants?”
“No; either the place of the scarring is coincidence, which, frankly, I very much doubt, or the implants have been removed.”
“But we were told those cannot be removed,” Janeway said.
“Not by us; or by the doctors of Babylon 5,” Chakotay answered. “We don’t know what the Shadow Servants who’ve planted them in the first time are capable of, though.”
“True,” Janeway allowed. “So, what are we supposed to do with this piece of information?”
“The warning sounds serious,” Rollins said. “We are no longer safe here. I suggest moving Voyager to the other side of the planet below… just in case.”
“What do you think, Commander?” Janeway expected her first officer to protest, but - to her surprise - Chakotay nodded in agreement.
“That would be prudent. We could still keep contact with the station, even reach it by shuttle in no time if necessary; but for Voyager, it would be safer there.”
“I thought you’d want us to join such a fight,” Rollins said.
Chakotay shook his head. “Voyager is just one ship, as the captain likes to remind us; and not a battle cruiser, either. She’d be destroyed without making a difference, should a big fleet of Shadow warships show up.”
“You saw those ships,” Rollins said. “Are they really that powerful?”
“That and more,” Chakotay replied grimly. “Perhaps a Galaxy-class starship could hold out against them, or a couple of Ambassador-class heavy cruisers, but not Voyager. We still might not escape a fight, but we should, at least, try… unless we have a collective death wish.”
“Agreed,” Janeway paused for a moment. “Does Captain Sheridan know?”
“I don’t know,” Chakotay shrugged. “He’s a bit… preoccupied at the moment. But Alyt Neroon forwarded the warning to Ivanova, and I’m sure she’ll take preventive measures. She’s nothing if not thorough, and it seems that she and Sheridan had already given the defence of Babylon 5 some serious thought.”
“Which means… what exactly?”
“All I know is that the station acquired a number of mines - or bombs, I’m not really sure - from the Gaim, through Citizen G’Kar. Each of these devices can deliver a thermonuclear blast of five or six hundred megatons.”
“And how comes you know about that?” Rollins demanded. “This is hardly common knowledge!”
“It isn’t,” Chakotay agreed, “but Ayala was talking to Mr. Garibaldi, who wanted to be sure Voyager won’t get near the jumpgate at the wrong time.”
“They’re planning to mine the area near the jumpgate!” Rollins realized. “That’s actually a smart idea. But will these devices not show up on a scanner?”
“Only if you know what you're looking for, according to Citizen G’Kar. Otherwise, they're completely undetectable… or so they hope.”
“You doubt it?” Janeway asked.
Chakotay shrugged. “I haven’t had the chance to take a look at them; and neither had Mr. Garibaldi. They have to trust G’Kar that he knows what he’s got them.”
“So, let’s assumed the devices work as they’re supposed to,” Rollins said. “This means, as soon as the Shadows come out of hyperspace, they can be blown to pieces.”
“In theory, it could work,” Chakotay nodded. “But based on what I saw in Sector 83, the Shadow ships don’t need a jumpgate. They don’t even need to open their own jump-point, like other big ships. They can simply phase in and out of real space at will.”
“That can lessen the effectiveness of the mines a great deal,” Rollins said glumly. “So, what can we do?”
“Not much,” Chakotay admitted. “We’ll follow your plan… and pray.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
“You don’t need to worry,” Sheridan said in a strange, multitonal voice that sounded like a dozen or so crystal chimes. “I mean you no harm. In fact, I need to ask you a favour.”
His eyes had changed, too, glowing in a soft golden light. Kes was quite sure it wasn’t really him speaking.
“Who… what are you?” she asked.
“I am Kosh,” the entity answered. “Or rather, I was Kosh. Now I am a mere echo of him.”
Kes knew, of course, who Kosh - the original Kosh - was… had been… whatever. She had learned a great deal from the Vorlon ship: about Vorlons in general and about the two fundamentally different Vorlon ambassadors in particular. And though she’d had a very unpleasant encounter with the current one, she also knew that Lyta used to trust the former one unconditionally.
“What do you want from me?” she asked.
“Shelter,” the entity answered. “When the Others killed me, I hid part of me in this vessel.”
“You mean Captain Sheridan?”
“Yes. My aide was absent, and he was the only one accepting enough to take me in, even unknowingly. But now that he is going to Z’ha’dum, I cannot stay with him any longer. The Others would discover my presence and kill what little is left of me. That must not happen; not yet. There is something important I have to do here, on Babylon 5, before I go forever - or the station will be destroyed.”
“By the Shadows?” Kes guessed.
“No,” the entity - Kosh? - answered.
It didn’t say more, but Kes understood that the danger came from the Vorlons; or, at least, from one particular Vorlon.
“You want me to give you shelter until then?” she clarified. “Why me?
“This vessel served well while I was merely hiding,” the entity answered. “To fight my own kind I need a vessel that is conscious of my presence. And I need your strength; for I am but an echo of my former self. I cannot do this without you.”
“I understand,” Kes said. “Yes, I will do this for you… and for myself, so that I can finish my transformation - if we survive the fight.”
“You will,” the entity promised. “I won’t; but that is all right. I am mostly gone; the rest of me needs to follow - after this one, last task.”
“I see,” Kes said; and she did, she really did. The Vorlons were nearing the end of a long journey she was just about to begin. “How are we going to do this?”
“Open yourself and let me do the rest,” the entity answered. “I shall be careful. Keep your eyes on me,” it added, as Kes instinctively closed her eyes. “And so it begins…”
The golden glow in Sheridan’s eyes intensified. Ropes of shining energy left his eyes and mouth, slamming into Kes with the force of tightly bundled phaser beams. For a moment she was afraid she would burn up like a piece of parchment; but then the intensity lessened, and she could feel a strange warmth filling her mind.
It is done, the entity once called Kosh said directly to her mind. We are one. Now we must alert the other players; for if he goes to Z’ha’dum without me, he will need help.
Kes glanced at Sheridan who was still standing behind his desk, clearly unaware of his surroundings.
Don’t mind him, Kosh said. He won’t remember. We, however, have to go in a hurry.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Having loaded and holstered his PPG, Sheridan went to a dresser, opened a drawer, and took out a second PPG. As he looked the weapon over, he became aware of the mirror in front of him. There was someone standing behind him - a Vorlon.
“And so it begins…” the apparition said in Kosh’s multitonal voice.
Startled, Sheridan spun around… but there was no one there. Turning back to the mirror, he saw no one but himself. He shook off the spooked feeling, and then with a steely look he marched into the front of the room and spoke to the monitor.
“Comm system, I want to record a time-delayed message for Ambassador Delenn.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
His invisibility spell having worked like a charm - he pulled a face at the bad pun - Galen reached his ship without any mishap. As expected, Lyta (or rather the Vorlon within her) had lost his track in the crowded inner sections of the station, so he could return to Bay 13 on a different, somewhat complicated way.
So far so good. He had managed to lure that Vorlon bloodhound away from the MedLabs. For the time being the frozen telepaths were safe.
He’d have to shield their hiding place better, eventually, for the ship he had his eye on for them still needed some time to return from the Rim. That was a long way, even for an explorer-class vessel. Right now, however, he had more urgent tasks at his hands, so he could only hope that the Vorlon would be busy searching the station for him in the next couple of days.
He couldn’t be everywhere; and the rest of his brethren didn’t care. Well, save for Alwyn, but Alwyn had to leave for different reasons. Very good reasons, granted, but that didn’t make him more available in a crisis.
He switched on his surveillance device to get a look at the more important players of the game, starting with the Vorlon ship, as always. Firstly because it was the closest; and secondly because he was still surprised that he’d been able to conceal his presence from both the ship and its master; at least until now. That could change any moment. It was never wise to underestimate a Vorlon… or his ship.
To his surprise, he soon spotted Voyager’s powerful little sprite near the huge ship - doing what? Communicating with the ship? At least it had extended a tendril, wrapping it around the girl and hummed to her in a tone almost too low for human ears to hear.
Of course, she wasn’t human, so perhaps her hearing was different, too.
It went on for several minutes. Then the ship released the girl, and for a moment she just stood there, her eyes tightly shut, concentrating.
And then, to his deepest shock, Galen could hear a telepathic voice inside his head.
I know you are here somewhere, it said. I have a message for you. Sheridan is going to Z’ha’dum. If he goes alone, he will perish. He must not perish - not yet. You know what is at stake. You know the way. You will have the means.
The last thing was the image of an odd-looking device; and then the message ended. The girl blinked a few times before shaking herself and heading back to Voyager.
Galen blinked a few times, too. Now, this was interesting.
Clearly, they had a previously unknown player in the game - but who could it be? Not the girl, obviously; she was just the messenger. It could be Lyta, in theory, trying to circumvent the influence of Ulkesh, but that was rather unlikely. Just as unlikely as a Vorlon ship acting without - or against - the orders of its master.
Even though this ship had already shown an uncharacteristic interest for the girl before.
So, who was it?
And how could they know about Galen’s presence? Somebody must have watched him from afar, without setting off his alarms. It was an unsettling thought.
But the identity of that person was of secondary importance at the moment. Right now, his first concern ought to be Sheridan. Sheridan, who, it seemed, chose to go to Z’ha’dum with the one who had once been his wife - for whatever reason.
Presumably not to enter the service of the Shadows; for in that case he wouldn’t be in danger. So he had to have a plan; most likely a reckless and completely insane one that had about half a per cent chance to succeed and zero chance for him to survive.
But he had to survive; he was vital for the outcome of the war. So he would need help of get off Z’ha’dum; help that Galen might be able to provide. But not alone. Not without assistance.
It seemed to be the perfect time to pay Seven of Nine another visit.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The quarters designed for Voyager’s chief medical officer were unexpectedly spacious - and utterly barren. The latter wasn’t really surprising, seeing that the late Dr. Fitzgerald had barely lived there for a couple of weeks before Voyager would be violently transferred half across the galaxy, resulting in the deaths of almost the entire senior staff.
Including their only doctor. And their only nurse.
Which was the reason why Tom Paris and Kes had been assisting the EMH ever since, Sam Wildman explained, while she and Naomi were helping Lillian to arrange her meagre belongings in her new home.
Not that there would have been much to arrange. Life on Babylon 5 didn’t allow one to surround oneself with unnecessary items of luxury - unless one was the Centauri ambassador, of course. Besides, Lillian always preferred to travel light, taking with her only a few keepsakes from her late grandparents. And those barely filled the small, beautiful chest of drawers she had bought on a flea market in Marseille while still at university… the only thing of real value she had ever possessed.
According to its - mostly sentimental - value, the small piece of furniture found its place of honour in the Starfleet- standard living/working area, together with the elaborately framed mirror (also acquired on a flea market), while the decorative Oriental silk and paper lamps found a new home in the bedroom.
And that was basically it.
“I never had so much living space for myself,” Lillian looked around in the living area. “These rooms are huge. What am I supposed to do with so much space? Why would one person need a room larger than a soccer field?”
“These are standard quarters for senior officers on a research ship,” Sam replied with a shrug. “If you want huge, you should see the VIP-rooms of a heavy cruiser. Although I must admit that even my quarters are much larger than the ones you had on Babylon 5.”
“Because you have a child?”
“No; because Voyager is an Intrepid-class vessel, built for long-term space exploration,” Sam explained. “Under normal circumstances the crew would spend long periods of time in uncharted space and there would be a steady number of people with very little rotation. The idea is to give them a stable background - including a comfortable place to live.”
“I can only agree with the idea itself,” Lillian said. “I just feel… well, a little lost here, all on my own.”
“You won’t be alone much longer,” Sam reminded her. “In fact, it would be perhaps a good idea to turn part of your bedroom into a nursery right away, so that when the baby arrives, you would have everything ready for him.”
Lillian realized that it was a good idea indeed.
“I’ll have to go back to the station and buy a lot of things, then,” she said with a frown. “Fortunately, I didn’t have the time to spend much money lately.”
“You can certainly do that,” Sam agreed. “But let us first sort through the stuff I still have in storage from the time when Naomi was born. You’re lucky that I never was into the pink cliché, so your kid can use the baby clothes, even though he’ll be a boy.”
“And the baby bed, Mum,” Naomi insisted. “He’ll need a baby bed, too. I can build it up again; I’m sure Seven would like to help.”
“Somehow I doubt that Seven would be interested in building up baby beds,” Sam replied dryly. “I think you’ll have more luck with Tom or Neelix; but you can give it a try,” she turned back to Lillian. “Should you need something you can’t find on the market, you can replicate it. Since you’re a member of the crew now, you’re entitled to the same amount of replicator rations as the rest of us. And Chakotay will want to contribute as well.”
“I’m capable of providing for myself and my child!” Lillian protested.
Sam nodded. “Of course you are. But it’s his kid, too, and he’d want to provide for him, at least partially. Don’t deny him the joy to do so.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Due to who she was - and what she was - Seven of Nine wasn’t easily surprised (unless it came to irrational human behaviour, but that was a different matter entirely). She wasn’t surprised now, when she felt something - or somebody - interfering with her regeneration cycle, either. This wasn’t the first time that she got disturbed and likely wouldn’t be the last one.
As a rule she would prefer letting the circle run to its end and send whoever was disturbing it on their way. But seeing that the person in question was Galen, she changed her mind.
“Technomage Galen,” she said, without leaving her regeneration chamber. “State your intentions.”
“I need your help,” the man said without preamble.
She raised an eyebrow. “You already told me that. You also said I had about a month to decide.”
“This is a different matter,” he said, the urgency in his voice unmistakable. “I need to leave Babylon 5 as soon as possible, in order to save Sheridan, who’s about to embark on a suicidal mission. But before I leave, I need to find a rather… peculiar device that’s apparently required for his rescuing.”
“Apparently?”
“I cannot be sure. I have never seen anything like it. Which is why I need help with searching the Babylon 5 database.”
“I thought you could hack any database at will.”
“I can… if I have the right keywords for the search. Without them, it could take days, and I don’t have days. I have hours, at best. Probably even less.”
“Why do you believe that I might do it faster?”
“Because your technology has already been synchronized with the Babylon 5 systems, and so you can start a search based on the image I will transfer to your terminal from my memory.”
“You know what the device looks like but not what it is used for?” Seven was rarely baffled; this was one of those rare times. “How is that possible?”
“I was given a telepathic warning,” Galen confessed. “That is how I learned about Sheridan’s plan; and I was shown an image. That is all I know; and that I don’t have time to waste.”
“Do you know who sent the warning?” Seven asked.
Galen shook his head. “No. It was something a Vorlon would do, but I seriously doubt that our resident Vorlon would care about Sheridan’s survival; or that he’d send me a warning - especially through that little alien girl of yours. Their first encounter wasn’t exactly friendly.”
“Kes?” Seven said in surprise. “You were given a warning by Kes?”
“Oh, she was just the messenger,” Galen replied. “Which is why I think it might have come from the Vorlon ship; it seems to like her, and Vorlon ships are sentient. Although it’s hard to image that one would act behind the back of its master… well, it doesn’t matter. We need to find the device and then we need to leave at once.”
“We?” Seven echoed. “You want me to go with you?”
“Under any other circumstances I would ask you to stay behind and keep an eye on the Vorlon; to distract him enough so that he won’t find the frozen telepaths in my absence,” Galen answered grimly. “But I cannot go to Z’ha’dum alone and come back alive on my own; just as Sheridan cannot. I need your help.”
“Why mine?”
“Because you are the only one who could fly my ship in case I am incapacitated. I can grant you temporary access to the main systems due to your implants. It won’t be easy, the technology is barely compatible, but it can be done.”
“Or we could both die.”
“Unfortunately, yes. There’s no way to tell until we have tried.”
“Why would I wan to endanger my existence then?”
“Because Sheridan needs to be saved, in order to beat the Shadows. Without him the Alliance would fall to pieces in no time. And because now you could make a difference between life and death for uncounted millions, human or other.”
Seven considered that for a moment. Quite frankly, she found Galen’s reasoning irrelevant. The people in this reality meant nothing for her, save perhaps for the frozen telepaths that might become her new collective one day, should she choose so.
On the other hand, Galen was the first - and so far only - person she had found something in common with, since being separated from the Collective… and that meant a great deal for her.
“Very well,” she said. “Show me the image.”
With unabashed relief, Galen hurried to the terminal on which she usually worked in the cargo bay and laid his hand on the screen. Small sparks of energy left his fingertips, entering the interface, and a moment later a fairly bizarre image appeared on the screen.
It had a vague likeness to an old medical apparatus used to measure blood pressure several centuries previously, only that it had two cables attached to its central unit. It seemed highly unlikely that it could save the life of anyone, no matter the circumstances. But running a visual search could never do any harm, so Seven started one, for Galen’s sake.
The results were quick and surprising… to put it mildly. Surprising that the bizarre-looking tool existed in the first place; and even more surprising what it could supposedly do.
“Well," Galen said, after having read the description of what wore the misleadingly innocent name Energy Transfer Device,” it seems we’ll need to break into the MedLabs’ security storage room. Because I doubt that Doctor Franklin would simply hand it over to us.”
“I am certain you can get it without being caught,” Seven replied coolly. “What am I supposed to do in the meantime?”
Galen handed her a small device; no larger than a standard Babylon 5 comm link.
“Wait for me in my ship. This will lead you there and open it for you. Please, don’t touch anything inside. Your implants are not yet compatible with my technology, and any contact might kill you; or damage the ship. I’d like to prevent both. We’ll work on synchronising you with the ship on our way.”
“You have not told me yet where we are going,” Seven reminded him.
“I haven’t, have I?” he said, almost pleased. “Well, you’re entitled to know, I suppose. We’re going to Z’ha’dum.”
“The homeworld of this Shadow species. The enemy’s primary fortress.”
“That is correct.”
“And we are going there, just the two of us, to save a single human who ought to know better than going there alone.”
“Also correct.”
“That is tactically unwise.”
“You get no argument from me.”
“Then why are we going?”
“Because we are the only ones who can do so and hope to return alive; with Sheridan alive as well. And because he needs to survive.”
“I still don’t see the point,” Seven declared. “But you offered me the chance of a new collective. I believe my human crewmates would say that I owe you. So let us go.”
Author: Soledad
Author’s notes: For disclaimer, rating, etc., see the secondary index page.
Some of the dialogue is quoted from the episode “Z’ha’Dum”, swapped around between characters with slight modifications. The device, of course, is from “The Quality of Mercy”, originally.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
PART 26 - 20 December 2260
Kes offered to accompany Dr. Hobbs and Sam Wildman to Babylon 5; allegedly to help them pack together Lillian’s belongings. Her true motivation, however, was to learn more about Anna Sheridan - or rather the creature that once had been Anna Sheridan but clearly no longer was.
Thus it served her purpose very well that Lillian left the packing to Sam (not that there would have been much to pack) and went to Captain Sheridan’s office to hand in her resignation.
“I’d like to tag along,” she said. “I hope to learn more about the captain’s wife… and why she’s returned right now.”
“If the captain catches you poking around in his head, he’s not going to react well,” Lillian warned.
“Then I’ll have to be careful, so that he won’t catch me,” Kes replied with a serene smile.
Lillian shrugged. “It’s your funeral. Don’t say I haven’t warned you.”
“Duly noted,” Kes smiled again, and then they headed for Sheridan’s office.
They arrived just in time to catch the end of a conversation between Sheridan and Garibaldi… well, Kes did, with a bit of telepathic help, as they were talking very, very quietly.
“Michael, when I first came here, I wasn't sure about you,” Sheridan was saying. “You weren't sure about me. Since then, I have come to trust you, to rely on you. Now, I need you to take care of this for me. No questions, no speculations, hunches, or educated guesses. All right?”
According to Garibaldi’s inner turmoil, it - whatever it was - was as far from ‘all right’ as humanly possible. But after a moment, he nodded reluctantly.
“Good!” Sheridan said in obvious relief. “And when I see you next, if everything is set… we'll talk about the weather.”
“Yes, sir,” Garibaldi replied unhappily and left. He didn’t even spot the two women waiting to enter, which clearly showed how upset he was. His situation awareness worked much better as a rule.
Lillian exchanged a worried look with Kes.
“What was that about, did you get a hint?” the doctor asked.
Kes shook her head. “No. But I felt a great urgency from Captain Sheridan… and determination. We should hurry up.”
“No time like the present,” Lillian said philosophically and pushed the buzzer.
“Enter!” it came from inside, and the door opened. Sheridan was holstering his PPG as they entered, and looked at them in surprise. “Doctor Hobbs? Is something wrong with Stephen… I mean Doctor Franklin?”
“No, Captain,” Lillian suppressed the flare of anger with practiced ease. Of course it had to be all about Franklin, as usual. “This is a personal matter.”
“Can it wait? I’m in a bit of hurry right now.”
“It won’t take long,” Lillian laid the comp-pad she was holding onto his desk. “I’ve just come to hand in my resignation from the MedLabs of Babylon 5.”
That caught his attention, despite being preoccupied. “You’re serious.”
“I’ve never been more serious in my life, Captain.”
“But… why now? You chose to stay with us when we severed ties with Earth. You must have believed it was the right thing to do…” Sheridan trailed off, clearly flabbergasted.
“I have,” Lillian agreed. “I still do. I just don’t think I could work alongside my boss any longer.”
“Franklin?” Sheridan was even more flabbergasted than before. “You are leaving because of Franklin?”
“As I said, Captain, it is a personal matter; and it has been a long way coming. Small things kept piling up, one after another; and then he left without telling us anything, and then he came back the same way and took over again without as much as a thank-you for the rest of us who’d worked in his place from one crisis to the next and the next and the next… I just can’t do this anymore.”
“But where are you planning to go?” Sheridan asked. “You can’t return to Earth; it would be too dangerous.”
“I’m not planning to,” Lillian decided to drop the bombshell and was really looking forward to his reaction. “I’m removing to Voyager. I’ve applied for a job - and got it.”
The reaction was everything she had hoped for - and then some. For a moment Sheridan was absolutely speechless, He opened and closed his mouth several times, unable to speak.
“Is this about Commander Chakotay?” he finally asked.
“No,” Lillian replied coldly. “It is about me, wanting to be treated as the doctor I am, instead of a third-class med tech.”
Sheridan shook his head in bewilderment… and noticed Kes’ presence for the first time. Telepathic camouflage could be a handy tool sometimes.
“Is that why you are here?” he asked.
“Oh, I’m just tagging along,” Kes replied brightly. “It was my idea in the first place, after all.”
Then she suddenly felt it: a tug, familiar yet utterly different. Similar to when the Vorlon ship called out to her; similar to the feeling of the Vorlon ambassador’s presence, but something else nonetheless. The faint echo of a once great power, weakened yet still there.
And its source was clearly Sheridan.
“Doctor, I think you should go and help Ensign Wildman pack your stuff,” she said, not leaving the human out of her sight for a moment. “It seems the captain and I have something important to discuss.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Janeway was greatly concerned by the warning that had found its roundabout way from the Shadow agent through Vir through Rastenn through Neroon through Chakotay to her. Especially its vagueness concerned her.
“Do you have any idea what to expect?” she asked.
Chakotay nodded. “Alyt Neroon believes that the Shadows are planning an all-out attack against Babylon 5, should their puppet fail to lure Captain Sheridan to Z’ha’dum.”
“You mean his wife?” Rollins asked with a frown.
“Or the person who once was his wife,” Chakotay corrected. “The Minbari say that no-one escapes Z’ha’dum; not unchanged, at least. And Lillian says Doctor Franklin found some scarring on the back of her head; at the same place where the Shadowtech implants usually are.”
“But no actual implants?”
“No; either the place of the scarring is coincidence, which, frankly, I very much doubt, or the implants have been removed.”
“But we were told those cannot be removed,” Janeway said.
“Not by us; or by the doctors of Babylon 5,” Chakotay answered. “We don’t know what the Shadow Servants who’ve planted them in the first time are capable of, though.”
“True,” Janeway allowed. “So, what are we supposed to do with this piece of information?”
“The warning sounds serious,” Rollins said. “We are no longer safe here. I suggest moving Voyager to the other side of the planet below… just in case.”
“What do you think, Commander?” Janeway expected her first officer to protest, but - to her surprise - Chakotay nodded in agreement.
“That would be prudent. We could still keep contact with the station, even reach it by shuttle in no time if necessary; but for Voyager, it would be safer there.”
“I thought you’d want us to join such a fight,” Rollins said.
Chakotay shook his head. “Voyager is just one ship, as the captain likes to remind us; and not a battle cruiser, either. She’d be destroyed without making a difference, should a big fleet of Shadow warships show up.”
“You saw those ships,” Rollins said. “Are they really that powerful?”
“That and more,” Chakotay replied grimly. “Perhaps a Galaxy-class starship could hold out against them, or a couple of Ambassador-class heavy cruisers, but not Voyager. We still might not escape a fight, but we should, at least, try… unless we have a collective death wish.”
“Agreed,” Janeway paused for a moment. “Does Captain Sheridan know?”
“I don’t know,” Chakotay shrugged. “He’s a bit… preoccupied at the moment. But Alyt Neroon forwarded the warning to Ivanova, and I’m sure she’ll take preventive measures. She’s nothing if not thorough, and it seems that she and Sheridan had already given the defence of Babylon 5 some serious thought.”
“Which means… what exactly?”
“All I know is that the station acquired a number of mines - or bombs, I’m not really sure - from the Gaim, through Citizen G’Kar. Each of these devices can deliver a thermonuclear blast of five or six hundred megatons.”
“And how comes you know about that?” Rollins demanded. “This is hardly common knowledge!”
“It isn’t,” Chakotay agreed, “but Ayala was talking to Mr. Garibaldi, who wanted to be sure Voyager won’t get near the jumpgate at the wrong time.”
“They’re planning to mine the area near the jumpgate!” Rollins realized. “That’s actually a smart idea. But will these devices not show up on a scanner?”
“Only if you know what you're looking for, according to Citizen G’Kar. Otherwise, they're completely undetectable… or so they hope.”
“You doubt it?” Janeway asked.
Chakotay shrugged. “I haven’t had the chance to take a look at them; and neither had Mr. Garibaldi. They have to trust G’Kar that he knows what he’s got them.”
“So, let’s assumed the devices work as they’re supposed to,” Rollins said. “This means, as soon as the Shadows come out of hyperspace, they can be blown to pieces.”
“In theory, it could work,” Chakotay nodded. “But based on what I saw in Sector 83, the Shadow ships don’t need a jumpgate. They don’t even need to open their own jump-point, like other big ships. They can simply phase in and out of real space at will.”
“That can lessen the effectiveness of the mines a great deal,” Rollins said glumly. “So, what can we do?”
“Not much,” Chakotay admitted. “We’ll follow your plan… and pray.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
“You don’t need to worry,” Sheridan said in a strange, multitonal voice that sounded like a dozen or so crystal chimes. “I mean you no harm. In fact, I need to ask you a favour.”
His eyes had changed, too, glowing in a soft golden light. Kes was quite sure it wasn’t really him speaking.
“Who… what are you?” she asked.
“I am Kosh,” the entity answered. “Or rather, I was Kosh. Now I am a mere echo of him.”
Kes knew, of course, who Kosh - the original Kosh - was… had been… whatever. She had learned a great deal from the Vorlon ship: about Vorlons in general and about the two fundamentally different Vorlon ambassadors in particular. And though she’d had a very unpleasant encounter with the current one, she also knew that Lyta used to trust the former one unconditionally.
“What do you want from me?” she asked.
“Shelter,” the entity answered. “When the Others killed me, I hid part of me in this vessel.”
“You mean Captain Sheridan?”
“Yes. My aide was absent, and he was the only one accepting enough to take me in, even unknowingly. But now that he is going to Z’ha’dum, I cannot stay with him any longer. The Others would discover my presence and kill what little is left of me. That must not happen; not yet. There is something important I have to do here, on Babylon 5, before I go forever - or the station will be destroyed.”
“By the Shadows?” Kes guessed.
“No,” the entity - Kosh? - answered.
It didn’t say more, but Kes understood that the danger came from the Vorlons; or, at least, from one particular Vorlon.
“You want me to give you shelter until then?” she clarified. “Why me?
“This vessel served well while I was merely hiding,” the entity answered. “To fight my own kind I need a vessel that is conscious of my presence. And I need your strength; for I am but an echo of my former self. I cannot do this without you.”
“I understand,” Kes said. “Yes, I will do this for you… and for myself, so that I can finish my transformation - if we survive the fight.”
“You will,” the entity promised. “I won’t; but that is all right. I am mostly gone; the rest of me needs to follow - after this one, last task.”
“I see,” Kes said; and she did, she really did. The Vorlons were nearing the end of a long journey she was just about to begin. “How are we going to do this?”
“Open yourself and let me do the rest,” the entity answered. “I shall be careful. Keep your eyes on me,” it added, as Kes instinctively closed her eyes. “And so it begins…”
The golden glow in Sheridan’s eyes intensified. Ropes of shining energy left his eyes and mouth, slamming into Kes with the force of tightly bundled phaser beams. For a moment she was afraid she would burn up like a piece of parchment; but then the intensity lessened, and she could feel a strange warmth filling her mind.
It is done, the entity once called Kosh said directly to her mind. We are one. Now we must alert the other players; for if he goes to Z’ha’dum without me, he will need help.
Kes glanced at Sheridan who was still standing behind his desk, clearly unaware of his surroundings.
Don’t mind him, Kosh said. He won’t remember. We, however, have to go in a hurry.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Having loaded and holstered his PPG, Sheridan went to a dresser, opened a drawer, and took out a second PPG. As he looked the weapon over, he became aware of the mirror in front of him. There was someone standing behind him - a Vorlon.
“And so it begins…” the apparition said in Kosh’s multitonal voice.
Startled, Sheridan spun around… but there was no one there. Turning back to the mirror, he saw no one but himself. He shook off the spooked feeling, and then with a steely look he marched into the front of the room and spoke to the monitor.
“Comm system, I want to record a time-delayed message for Ambassador Delenn.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
His invisibility spell having worked like a charm - he pulled a face at the bad pun - Galen reached his ship without any mishap. As expected, Lyta (or rather the Vorlon within her) had lost his track in the crowded inner sections of the station, so he could return to Bay 13 on a different, somewhat complicated way.
So far so good. He had managed to lure that Vorlon bloodhound away from the MedLabs. For the time being the frozen telepaths were safe.
He’d have to shield their hiding place better, eventually, for the ship he had his eye on for them still needed some time to return from the Rim. That was a long way, even for an explorer-class vessel. Right now, however, he had more urgent tasks at his hands, so he could only hope that the Vorlon would be busy searching the station for him in the next couple of days.
He couldn’t be everywhere; and the rest of his brethren didn’t care. Well, save for Alwyn, but Alwyn had to leave for different reasons. Very good reasons, granted, but that didn’t make him more available in a crisis.
He switched on his surveillance device to get a look at the more important players of the game, starting with the Vorlon ship, as always. Firstly because it was the closest; and secondly because he was still surprised that he’d been able to conceal his presence from both the ship and its master; at least until now. That could change any moment. It was never wise to underestimate a Vorlon… or his ship.
To his surprise, he soon spotted Voyager’s powerful little sprite near the huge ship - doing what? Communicating with the ship? At least it had extended a tendril, wrapping it around the girl and hummed to her in a tone almost too low for human ears to hear.
Of course, she wasn’t human, so perhaps her hearing was different, too.
It went on for several minutes. Then the ship released the girl, and for a moment she just stood there, her eyes tightly shut, concentrating.
And then, to his deepest shock, Galen could hear a telepathic voice inside his head.
I know you are here somewhere, it said. I have a message for you. Sheridan is going to Z’ha’dum. If he goes alone, he will perish. He must not perish - not yet. You know what is at stake. You know the way. You will have the means.
The last thing was the image of an odd-looking device; and then the message ended. The girl blinked a few times before shaking herself and heading back to Voyager.
Galen blinked a few times, too. Now, this was interesting.
Clearly, they had a previously unknown player in the game - but who could it be? Not the girl, obviously; she was just the messenger. It could be Lyta, in theory, trying to circumvent the influence of Ulkesh, but that was rather unlikely. Just as unlikely as a Vorlon ship acting without - or against - the orders of its master.
Even though this ship had already shown an uncharacteristic interest for the girl before.
So, who was it?
And how could they know about Galen’s presence? Somebody must have watched him from afar, without setting off his alarms. It was an unsettling thought.
But the identity of that person was of secondary importance at the moment. Right now, his first concern ought to be Sheridan. Sheridan, who, it seemed, chose to go to Z’ha’dum with the one who had once been his wife - for whatever reason.
Presumably not to enter the service of the Shadows; for in that case he wouldn’t be in danger. So he had to have a plan; most likely a reckless and completely insane one that had about half a per cent chance to succeed and zero chance for him to survive.
But he had to survive; he was vital for the outcome of the war. So he would need help of get off Z’ha’dum; help that Galen might be able to provide. But not alone. Not without assistance.
It seemed to be the perfect time to pay Seven of Nine another visit.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The quarters designed for Voyager’s chief medical officer were unexpectedly spacious - and utterly barren. The latter wasn’t really surprising, seeing that the late Dr. Fitzgerald had barely lived there for a couple of weeks before Voyager would be violently transferred half across the galaxy, resulting in the deaths of almost the entire senior staff.
Including their only doctor. And their only nurse.
Which was the reason why Tom Paris and Kes had been assisting the EMH ever since, Sam Wildman explained, while she and Naomi were helping Lillian to arrange her meagre belongings in her new home.
Not that there would have been much to arrange. Life on Babylon 5 didn’t allow one to surround oneself with unnecessary items of luxury - unless one was the Centauri ambassador, of course. Besides, Lillian always preferred to travel light, taking with her only a few keepsakes from her late grandparents. And those barely filled the small, beautiful chest of drawers she had bought on a flea market in Marseille while still at university… the only thing of real value she had ever possessed.
According to its - mostly sentimental - value, the small piece of furniture found its place of honour in the Starfleet- standard living/working area, together with the elaborately framed mirror (also acquired on a flea market), while the decorative Oriental silk and paper lamps found a new home in the bedroom.
And that was basically it.
“I never had so much living space for myself,” Lillian looked around in the living area. “These rooms are huge. What am I supposed to do with so much space? Why would one person need a room larger than a soccer field?”
“These are standard quarters for senior officers on a research ship,” Sam replied with a shrug. “If you want huge, you should see the VIP-rooms of a heavy cruiser. Although I must admit that even my quarters are much larger than the ones you had on Babylon 5.”
“Because you have a child?”
“No; because Voyager is an Intrepid-class vessel, built for long-term space exploration,” Sam explained. “Under normal circumstances the crew would spend long periods of time in uncharted space and there would be a steady number of people with very little rotation. The idea is to give them a stable background - including a comfortable place to live.”
“I can only agree with the idea itself,” Lillian said. “I just feel… well, a little lost here, all on my own.”
“You won’t be alone much longer,” Sam reminded her. “In fact, it would be perhaps a good idea to turn part of your bedroom into a nursery right away, so that when the baby arrives, you would have everything ready for him.”
Lillian realized that it was a good idea indeed.
“I’ll have to go back to the station and buy a lot of things, then,” she said with a frown. “Fortunately, I didn’t have the time to spend much money lately.”
“You can certainly do that,” Sam agreed. “But let us first sort through the stuff I still have in storage from the time when Naomi was born. You’re lucky that I never was into the pink cliché, so your kid can use the baby clothes, even though he’ll be a boy.”
“And the baby bed, Mum,” Naomi insisted. “He’ll need a baby bed, too. I can build it up again; I’m sure Seven would like to help.”
“Somehow I doubt that Seven would be interested in building up baby beds,” Sam replied dryly. “I think you’ll have more luck with Tom or Neelix; but you can give it a try,” she turned back to Lillian. “Should you need something you can’t find on the market, you can replicate it. Since you’re a member of the crew now, you’re entitled to the same amount of replicator rations as the rest of us. And Chakotay will want to contribute as well.”
“I’m capable of providing for myself and my child!” Lillian protested.
Sam nodded. “Of course you are. But it’s his kid, too, and he’d want to provide for him, at least partially. Don’t deny him the joy to do so.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Due to who she was - and what she was - Seven of Nine wasn’t easily surprised (unless it came to irrational human behaviour, but that was a different matter entirely). She wasn’t surprised now, when she felt something - or somebody - interfering with her regeneration cycle, either. This wasn’t the first time that she got disturbed and likely wouldn’t be the last one.
As a rule she would prefer letting the circle run to its end and send whoever was disturbing it on their way. But seeing that the person in question was Galen, she changed her mind.
“Technomage Galen,” she said, without leaving her regeneration chamber. “State your intentions.”
“I need your help,” the man said without preamble.
She raised an eyebrow. “You already told me that. You also said I had about a month to decide.”
“This is a different matter,” he said, the urgency in his voice unmistakable. “I need to leave Babylon 5 as soon as possible, in order to save Sheridan, who’s about to embark on a suicidal mission. But before I leave, I need to find a rather… peculiar device that’s apparently required for his rescuing.”
“Apparently?”
“I cannot be sure. I have never seen anything like it. Which is why I need help with searching the Babylon 5 database.”
“I thought you could hack any database at will.”
“I can… if I have the right keywords for the search. Without them, it could take days, and I don’t have days. I have hours, at best. Probably even less.”
“Why do you believe that I might do it faster?”
“Because your technology has already been synchronized with the Babylon 5 systems, and so you can start a search based on the image I will transfer to your terminal from my memory.”
“You know what the device looks like but not what it is used for?” Seven was rarely baffled; this was one of those rare times. “How is that possible?”
“I was given a telepathic warning,” Galen confessed. “That is how I learned about Sheridan’s plan; and I was shown an image. That is all I know; and that I don’t have time to waste.”
“Do you know who sent the warning?” Seven asked.
Galen shook his head. “No. It was something a Vorlon would do, but I seriously doubt that our resident Vorlon would care about Sheridan’s survival; or that he’d send me a warning - especially through that little alien girl of yours. Their first encounter wasn’t exactly friendly.”
“Kes?” Seven said in surprise. “You were given a warning by Kes?”
“Oh, she was just the messenger,” Galen replied. “Which is why I think it might have come from the Vorlon ship; it seems to like her, and Vorlon ships are sentient. Although it’s hard to image that one would act behind the back of its master… well, it doesn’t matter. We need to find the device and then we need to leave at once.”
“We?” Seven echoed. “You want me to go with you?”
“Under any other circumstances I would ask you to stay behind and keep an eye on the Vorlon; to distract him enough so that he won’t find the frozen telepaths in my absence,” Galen answered grimly. “But I cannot go to Z’ha’dum alone and come back alive on my own; just as Sheridan cannot. I need your help.”
“Why mine?”
“Because you are the only one who could fly my ship in case I am incapacitated. I can grant you temporary access to the main systems due to your implants. It won’t be easy, the technology is barely compatible, but it can be done.”
“Or we could both die.”
“Unfortunately, yes. There’s no way to tell until we have tried.”
“Why would I wan to endanger my existence then?”
“Because Sheridan needs to be saved, in order to beat the Shadows. Without him the Alliance would fall to pieces in no time. And because now you could make a difference between life and death for uncounted millions, human or other.”
Seven considered that for a moment. Quite frankly, she found Galen’s reasoning irrelevant. The people in this reality meant nothing for her, save perhaps for the frozen telepaths that might become her new collective one day, should she choose so.
On the other hand, Galen was the first - and so far only - person she had found something in common with, since being separated from the Collective… and that meant a great deal for her.
“Very well,” she said. “Show me the image.”
With unabashed relief, Galen hurried to the terminal on which she usually worked in the cargo bay and laid his hand on the screen. Small sparks of energy left his fingertips, entering the interface, and a moment later a fairly bizarre image appeared on the screen.
It had a vague likeness to an old medical apparatus used to measure blood pressure several centuries previously, only that it had two cables attached to its central unit. It seemed highly unlikely that it could save the life of anyone, no matter the circumstances. But running a visual search could never do any harm, so Seven started one, for Galen’s sake.
The results were quick and surprising… to put it mildly. Surprising that the bizarre-looking tool existed in the first place; and even more surprising what it could supposedly do.
“Well," Galen said, after having read the description of what wore the misleadingly innocent name Energy Transfer Device,” it seems we’ll need to break into the MedLabs’ security storage room. Because I doubt that Doctor Franklin would simply hand it over to us.”
“I am certain you can get it without being caught,” Seven replied coolly. “What am I supposed to do in the meantime?”
Galen handed her a small device; no larger than a standard Babylon 5 comm link.
“Wait for me in my ship. This will lead you there and open it for you. Please, don’t touch anything inside. Your implants are not yet compatible with my technology, and any contact might kill you; or damage the ship. I’d like to prevent both. We’ll work on synchronising you with the ship on our way.”
“You have not told me yet where we are going,” Seven reminded him.
“I haven’t, have I?” he said, almost pleased. “Well, you’re entitled to know, I suppose. We’re going to Z’ha’dum.”
“The homeworld of this Shadow species. The enemy’s primary fortress.”
“That is correct.”
“And we are going there, just the two of us, to save a single human who ought to know better than going there alone.”
“Also correct.”
“That is tactically unwise.”
“You get no argument from me.”
“Then why are we going?”
“Because we are the only ones who can do so and hope to return alive; with Sheridan alive as well. And because he needs to survive.”
“I still don’t see the point,” Seven declared. “But you offered me the chance of a new collective. I believe my human crewmates would say that I owe you. So let us go.”