From s.phillips25@genie.comSun Feb 18 13:48:40 1996 Date: Wed, 7 Feb 96 03:43:00 UTC 0000 From: s.phillips25@genie.com Reply to: b5-creative@blob.best.net To: b5-creative@blob.best.net Subject: Alt universe fragments Folks, Here are some fragments: this is an alternate universe story...as will be made clear in the first part. I really don't know where this is going; I just wanted to write something different. Please let me know what you think. It may help me to decide if I want to keep going with it. The war was over. Earth had lost; the Battle of the Line was a great effort but 90% of the men who fought in it were dead. Sinclair was one of the lucky ones. Well, some people would consider him lucky, that is. At least, he was alive. There were mornings when that didn't matter. When waking up to face another day under Minbari rule was the hardest thing he had ever done. When acting as if he accepted their rule, being polite to them was almost impossible. They were incessantly polite to them...most of them were. It made it worse somehow. But he did it. Because he had to. Because the rebellion was counting on him and it wasn't in his nature to let them down. Delenn, Gray Council representative on Earth, stared out the window of the office she'd chosen for her own. These humans, so difficult. There had been another attack on a Minbari transport yesterday. Why didn't they just lie down and accept that they were a conquered people? No one else in the history of the Minbari Empire had ever posed such a problem. They put on a wonderful public face; the newscasters giving the Minbari plans for rebuilding such good, what was the word, press. She was surrounded with advisors who told her to give it time, time to let the humans get used to being servitors. Second class citizens, some rebellious fliers called them. The phrase seemed calculated to raise passions. She turned to face the Earth liason. "So, Mr. Garibaldi, what do you suggest we do about this?" Her arm waved over the data crystal's hard copy on her desk. The man smiled wanly. He had been a find, this Michael Garibaldi. Surviving seemed to be his only goal...that and drinking himself to death. Alcohol had even less salutory effects on the Minbari system than it did for him but using it as a tool to keep others in line... Delenn didn't care what her subordinates did in their off-time as long as they did exactly what she told them to do at all other times. And, since Garibaldi wasn't Minbari, she cared even less. "Well, " he seemed to preface quite a number of his comments with that word, "I'll have someone out there to investigate as soon as possible." "Already done. We shall find those responsible. I am not concerned with the transport. " Even though two members of the Minbari high command had been aboard. "Your people, Mr. Garibaldi. They puzzle me. We have been here for one of your years. Yet the resistance has not diminished. Do you have no common sense?" "Yes, Satai Delenn, we do. Well, most of us do." He ran a hand over his thinning hair; a nervous habit, apparently. "Satai, the executions were stopped a week ago. I was sure that would cut down on the number of these incidents." She whirled about, her robes a swirl of pale colors. "You were sure, weren't you? Since you were wrong, perhaps the executions should be re-instated." Without waiting for his reply, she went on. "Starting today, ten humans will be executed for every Minbari life taken...and for those on this transport, there will be twenty. " The man took a deep breath, loud but she paid no heed. "Try harder, Mr. Garibaldi. I can get another advisor quickly." Among some humans, his status was envied. Yet, Delenn wasn't at all sure that she would want a human who envied someone like her advisor...chosen by her predecessor. Garibaldi bowed, obviously shaken. He needed a drink, that was obvious even to the Minbari who stared at him from beneath her brow ridges. How could you understand someone who was so different? With a negligent wave, he was dismissed. To be continued....I think. There is more, but it may not be suitable for this particular list. Sue I hope this is not duplicated; something strange happened while I was trying to upload it and I lost the carrier. From s.phillips25@genie.comFri Mar 8 21:10:21 1996 Date: Wed, 28 Feb 96 03:14:00 UTC 0000 From: s.phillips25@genie.com Reply to: b5-creative@blob.best.net To: b5-creative@blob.best.net Subject: Through a Glass, Frag. 4 The next segment. I will put these all together some day, I promise. Sue Jeff Sinclair headed to the rendezvous point slowly. The executions preyed on his conscience. Cat's lack of concern for it did the same. His mind played with the two points, worried them while other parts of his consciousness were making sure he was not being followed. His position on the base allowed him the use of a flyer. Of Minbari make, it would cause no comment should it be noticed. Their presence was everywhere; one more object in the night sky was of no concern to any. He landed a few miles away from Earthdome. Few people left the city anymore; they were as safe as they could make it. His contact didn't seem unduly worried, no matter where they met; still, it had been the contact who had chosen this spot, not Jeff. He felt a little uneasy about that but it couldn't be helped. At the prescribed time, he landed in a clearing in a forest that had still not recovered from the bombings. Turning off all the outside lights, he waited until a light showed itself in the trees ahead. It was red, hot and glowing. Sinclair left the flyer slowly, unarmed. The figure emerging from the trees was not what he was expecting. Still, instead of jumping back and getting out of there quickly (the action his instincts were screaming for him to take), he continued forward even more slowly. The figure didn't seem to be armed either, but it was larger than any race he had seen before. As it came into the light, Jeff could see it was tall, about half a head taller than he. The light gave it an unusual look, almost slick. It was becoming obvious that the figure wasn't human. But it wasn't of a race Sinclair had ever seen before and that puzzled him. His usual contact was a man about fifty, graying, with a smallish beard and boyish eyes. This... A chuckle brought his attention back to the figure at hand. "Ah, Commander Sinclair. I have waited a long time for this meeting." After a few moments of silence, it went on. "Come now, Commander, have I the honor of rendering you speechless? That is a state foreign to you...or so I have been led to believe." Jeff took a step forward. "You have the advantage." "Ah, of course." The reptilian figure -- now that the moon had gotten brighter, he could see that -- also came forward, offered a salute, one hand to the other palm, both pressed to its chest. "My name is G'Kar. I am here to help you."