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Babylon 5

Throwing Eggs at a Brick Wall

It was late, I could have checked my chronometer but long years of being head of security had taught me lots of little tricks. One of them being never look at your chronometer when you’re pulling night shift. Scientists say time is relative and I agree with them completely; if you keep an eye on the time when on night shift time relatively grinds to a halt.

Suffice it to say it was late when I got off the lift and entered the Zocalo. It was mostly deserted and I spent a few minutes walking around the closed shops, checking locks, rattling gates and generally being nosey, which is my job. At the other end of The Zocalo was the entrance to our resident casino slash bar. It was still open and could, at times, get somewhat rowdy. A regular appearance by out little stations resident security chief, being me, could go a long way to prompting potential rowdies to cool it. 

However my dramatic entrance into the Casino was stopped short when I noticed him… her… it… whatever… standing unobtrusively at the entrance and staring inside. I’m not sure how an utterly unknown alien in a seven foot power suit can be unobtrusive but ..uh…he, we’ll settle for he, pulled it off rather well.

“Ambassador Kosh,” I said stepping up beside him. “This is a surprise.”

With a low hiss the power suit swung around to face me. The helmet’s  big green optical thingie closed to a pin prick. Then it cocked to the side, as if studying me. Then without a word Kosh turned back to staring into the casino.

“Right,” I said rocking back and forth on my heels. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Is there anything I can help you with Ambassador?”

Again the giant metal suit swung around and he faced me. There was a ringing of chimes, bells and haunting tunes accompanied by a few flashing lights on his chest. “No,” came the even voice from somewhere before Kosh yet again turned away from me.

I nodded, which he probably saw even though not looking at me and started to move on to some other part of The Zocalo to continue my patrol. I don’t know where the sudden impulse came from, perhaps with was instinct, or curiosity, or my need to be nosey; either way all those aspects factor in real big when it comes to my job and I follow them pretty often. This time was no exception.

Stepping around the giant metal suit so I could address Kosh properly and save him the trouble of swinging around and around I said, “May I inquire what you are doing then, Ambassador.”

Again there were a few lights, bells and whistles, “Yes.”

And he was silent.

I caught on, “What are you doing the Ambassador?”

This time the chimes from his chest lasted nearly five seconds before the voice translator spoke for him, “Observing.”

Now I’ve had a theory for a while. This theory states that the Vorlons are ninety-nine percent show and actually one percent super-powerful alien species. Yeah sure they’ve got nifty gadgets and widgets and the whole ‘air of mystery’ thing? Gotta love it. Classic psychological maneuvering. Case in point, they’re translator. Sure it bleeps, blings, blangs, clangs, crongs, and bongs something fierce and then the actual translation is something really simple. I’m almost positive this is deliberate so as to give the impression of an incredibly complex language being dumbed down for the poor little ‘younger races’; but I’m getting away from the point.

“Why are you observing?” I politely asked.

Bing, blong, dweep, dwibble, clang, “To see.”

That caught me a little off; it sure sounded good though, ‘Observing to see.’ Really deep stuff. “Great,” I replied. “Always good to see new things, anything in particular tonight?”

Cue symphony of bells,” Love.”

Here was another surprise from our resident Vorlon. I glanced into the Casino and a quote from a classic vid flickered through my mind, ‘You will never find a greater hive of scum and villainy.’  And while that description was not totally accurate concerning B5’s little den of, there are nastier places Down Below, it was a reasonable description.

“Love, Ambassador?” I snickered. “In this place? Greed I’ll grant you, drunkenness? You bet. Lust? By the boat load but love, here? No, sorry I don’t buy that.”

Kosh’s helmet swiveled and the iris in the front of it opened fully; he had not looked at me up to this point, instead staring into the Casino.

“It is not to be found here,” his ‘said’, “It is being born here. Observe.”

The bulk of the Power Suit moved aside silently and I peeked and I looked into the Casino. It seemed normal to me; people playing around various tables, some scooping up chips, other’s staring glumly as another paycheck vanished. There were people at the bar talking loudly, one guy had a girl around each arm, and others staring into their drinks, looking for enlightenment.

“Sorry Ambassador, I don’t see a thing.” I said.

The bells rang, “Look into the darkness.”

‘Darkness eh?’ I thought to myself. ‘What is it with Vorlons and darkness anyhow?’

I figured the Vorlon meant the far tables, where the lights are low and privacy more assured. The tables were empty except….

Ivanova.

She was sitting at a small table; her hair was down, which was not a good sign. Usually she didn’t let her hair down where people could see. If she did it meant she was stressed and a stressed Ivanova was not a safe thing.

She had a drink in front of her that she was ignoring and one she was rubbing her temples with her hands. Across from her was someone else. I couldn’t make them out at first, I had to squint then some light caught the blond hair, shoulder length.

“Ms Winters?” I asked aloud. She was sitting across from Ivanova, both hands flat on the table, black gloves plain to see. Between her hands was her own drink.

Ivanova lay one forearm on the table, grabbed the glass with her free hand and drank the contents with a gulp. She looked at Ms Winters and said something, I was way too far away, and the rest of the place far too loud, to make out anything. I only knew she was talking.

In response Ms Winters shrugged. It was a tiny shrug, I almost missed it. Then she delicately picked up her own drink and took a tiny sip.

I looked over my shoulder; Kosh was still there, hovering silently.

“Love?” I said. My voice dripping with skepticism. “You’re kidding right? Ivanova hates the teeps. Well, the Psi-Corp at least. Since teeps are Psi-corp…get where I’m going with this?”

The Vorlon’s iris narrowed down to a pinprick but it didn’t say anything.

I looked back at the ladies, there were talking about something heavy. I could tell that much. Ivanova refused to look at Ms Winters, her head kept turning left, right, up or down anywhere but directly across the table while Ms Winters didn’t look away one bit.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw someone, a man, walking in their direction. “Uh-oh,” I whispered. “Someone very stupid, this should be fun.”

The man made as straight a line as he could for the table where Ms Winters and Ivanova sat. It wasn’t a very good straight line; he kept bouncing off chairs or losing his balance. “Drunk and stupid,” I muttered. “Better and better every second.”

He finally reached his goal, set his drink on the table and sat down. Ms Winter’s head turned a fraction of inch, if she anything I couldn’t tell. Ivanova looked away from the man, the message clear. He didn’t get it.

He was loud; drunkenly loud I could make out a few words, clear across the room. He must have been shouting. I caught, ‘baby’ and ‘women in uniform.’

Ivanvoa studiously ignored him, but he didn’t take the hint. “Excuse me Ambassador,” I said glancing back at the Vorlon. “I think I’m going to intervene before this gets ugly.”

I hear a loud shout of outrage, “Damn,” I cursed. “Too late.”

Ivanova had leapt to her feet and had the drunk pinned to the wall, one hand wrapped around his throat the other, a fist cocked back ready to rearrange his teeth.

I didn’t really have a problem with the idea of her belting the dredge a good one, he probably deserved it. But a small fight like that could grow into a big fight, which could lead to broken lights, smashed tables, liquor all over the floor, money stolen and that would lead to paperwork and I can’t stand paperwork.

I snapped the strap on my PPC just in case, “Wait,” The Vorlon said behind me. “Observe.”

While I wasn’t looking Ms Winter’s had stood up. She moved around the table toward Ivanova who had her teeth clenched and was breathing heavily. She stepped forward and lifted her hand to touch Ivanova, “Oh no, don’t do that,” I muttered.

The telepath rested her hand on Ivanova’s shoulder, I raised my comlink, ready to call Doctor Franklin; I figured he might know a good plastic surgeon.

I blinked, then, still not believing my eyes I blinked again. Ivanova had not spun around delivering a haymaker to the telepath, she had not broken Ms Winters’ jaw or punched her in the eye.

Ivanova let the drunk go.

He fell forward, hand at his throat and lurched away. He must not have gone fast enough, Ivanova gave him a push that nearly sent him sprawling.

Ivanova turned around and face Ms Winters’. They were only a few inches apart; Ms Winters’ rested both her hands on Ivanova’s shoulders and Ivanova lifted her arms, like she was going to hug the other woman but at the last second she clenched her hands into fists and let them drop.

Her head drooped and she shook her head. Ms Winter’s nodded and said something that I would have given a week’s pay to hear. Ivanova still didn’t look up.

“Love can be born anywhere,” The Vorlon said behind me.

“That’s not love,” I said turning around so I was face to helmet with the Ambassador.

His helmet cocked to the side and the bells rang, “Such things are not allowed in your culture?”  He asked.

“What, women being lovers?” I shrugged. “Some don’t like it, personally I don’t care who does what with who. I know The Commander though, she’s not the type. That and she hates Psi-Corp. Ms Winters may not be Psi-Corp but she represents them and that’d be good enough for the Commander. “

“Sorry Ambassador,” I said grinning slightly. “You’re not looking at the right kind of stuff. Those two? Just friends. Everybody knows how hard Ms Winters has been trying to hammer down The Commander’s defenses. Won’t work, but I’ve seen them being sociable before.”

The Vorlon was silent for a moment. I thought I had ticked him off but his chest plate sang, there were the lights and the translator spoke.

“You do not choose to understand.”

The power suit spun away, quite fast for something so big, and The Ambassador moved silently away, toward the lifts.

“Kosh,” I called out after him. He spun to face me, “I still say your wrong, but I have to know. Why were you trying to see love?”

If the Vorlon was upset at my sudden informality it gave no sign.

The chestplate on the powersuit rippled slightly, the lights flickered and then, I don’t know why that time, that one time I could hear it but the sounds…were not random bleeps anymore. I could almost make out a melody of some sort. It was just out of my hearing but I know I heard something, something beautiful, old and very sad.

The translator spoke, “To remember.”

The alarm on my comlink chimed letting me know my shift was done. I glanced at my hand and slapped the link silencing the alarm. When I looked up Kosh was gone.

“Fast when he wants to be,” I muttered.

I thought about going to the bar, having a soda, maybe see if the ladies were in the mood for some sober company. When I looked back into the Casino though, the dark corners were empty. “Must have slipped out when my back was turned.” I muttered to myself. “Might as well go home, watch a few toons and hit the sack.”

I looked back at the table where the ladies had sat. Ms Winters drink was still there. No desperate drunk had gotten to it yet but that wouldn’t last long.

“Right,” I snickered to myself. “Ivanova and Ms Winters, like that’ll happen.”

And I went to bed.

END-THROWING EGGS AT BRICK WALL

Authors Notes: I’ve never written Babylon 5 fic before and I have no plans to do so again. I’m not too sure of the characterizations so if anyone has anything to say go nuts.

I probably would never have written a B5 fic but Halfone’s challenge struck a nerve. I spent about thirty seconds trying to think of a fic that could answer that challenge and this story jumped out of the shadows and ate me.

I never would have thought about it without the challenge. Halfone’s challenge took my thoughts in directions I had never considered before therefore I am grateful.

Now somebody, anybody, everybody…C&C this sucker.

I remain, as always,
Mad-Hamlet