From: pharohb@ix.netcom.com Subject: The Changing Tides - Chapter 1 Date: Wed, 15 Dec 1999 18:37:12 -0500 This is chapter 1 of the first backstory for the Babylon Project: Omega Fleet, a play-by-email RPG that I co-run. This story was written by myself, Mike Bell, and April Oglesbee and sets up the events of the game, as well as tells the story of the beginnings of the Telepath crisis. The story takes place in January of 2263 If you are interested in the game, go to the website at: http://omegafleet.cjb.net or email me. - Mike Bell & April Oglesbee Chapter 1 - "Ashes of the Phoenix" The Earth Alliance colony on the planet Rigel VIII was founded in the Earth year 2244, just before the Earth-Minbari War broke out. It began as a small mining colony, set up to supply Earth with Quantium 40, a rare mineral needed in the construction of jump gates. The planet's supply of Quantium 40, combined with the high prices at the beginning of Human galactic expansion made Rigel VIII the wealthiest colony planet in the Earth Alliance. But the planet's supply of the substance quickly dwindled and disappeared, thus leaving a washed-up and broke colony in the middle of nowhere during a war. On the Minbari's swift push through the outer Human colonies, the Rigilian system was not given much attention. When the Minbari came through in early 2246, the colony had a population of less than one-quarter of a million people, most of those living in poverty. There were no starships stationed there, aside from the ever-rare supply ship from Earth, which had all but stopped their runs during the war, so the Minbari did not give Rigel VIII any attention at all and moved onto bigger and better things. When more and more of the larger, inner Human colonies started to be hit by the Minbari, fleeing refugees came to Rigel VIII rather than return to Earth for fear the Minbari would soon strike the inner planets of the solar system. During this time of unplanned expansion what law, order, and civility the planet had before was all but destroyed. In one three-month span what few law enforcement officers there were recorded 1080 murders out of a population of over six-hundred thousand. The wealthiest person on Rigel VIII at the time was a man named Harriman Porter who, while most everyone else around him on the planet lived in almost filth, lived in luxury off of the profits he made during the mining days. He was blind of the poverty around him until his wife and children were murdered on their way home from an outing at the beach by a gang looking for money. This opened his eyes to the world around him and he set out to change it. Over the next 20 years, Rigel VIII was cleaned up into a world that rivaled Earth in its beauty, both natural and unnatural. It was now a world of vast oceans, sandy beaches with crystal clear water, dense forests, and large cities. Rigel VIII became mostly a tourist attraction. By 2263, four million people claimed the planet as their home, but there were some who wanted the planet all to themselves. * * * The sun was shining brightly and a cold wind was blowing out of the east when Allyson McGregor, chief investigator for the Psi Cops division on Rigel VIII, rode through the streets of New Houston, the city she had called home ever since being stationed here after leaving Mars eight years earlier. She had spent all but five years of life on Mars, but when she came here she vowed never to go back to the dusty red planet and it's artifical enviroments inside pressure domes. The sun, the water, the fresh air, it was still all new to her even after being here for so long. After navigating through the crowded streets for almost an hour, the car pulled to a stop outside an upper-class apartment building near the out skirts of the city. Before opening the car door, McGregor changed her whole attitude. What was, in private, verging on a happy demeanor now changed to something darker, something more like a P-12 Psi Cop should be. Even though they thought so, the Corps had not broken her yet. She pulled on the black synthicated leather gloves that she hated and opened the hover car's passenger side door. More than six feet tall, with long red hair pulled back behind her and piercing blue eyes that looked like they could see through anything, hidden behind dark sunglasses, she was an intimidating sight, and the PPG strapped to her side and the two Bloodhounds flanking behind her didn't help subdue that feeling. Without saying anything to the officers behind her, she walked up the short flight of stairs to the apartment building's entrance and they followed her like a loyal dog, or more correctly, bloodhound. The security guard at the door started to stop her, but after seeing the psi on her badge took a step back and allowed her and her comrades to pass. McGregor disliked instilling a sort of god like fear in the Mundanes, but it did help make her job a lot easier. She said nothing until the three had reached the elevator, then asked one of her Bloodhounds where it was exactly they were going. "Eighth floor, room 807." She finally took off her sunglasses, which had made the inside of the building almost too dark to see anything, then reached out and pressed the number eight on the keypad. The elevator quickly ascended, then came to a stop and opened the doors only a few seconds later. McGregor and her Psi Corps lackeys walked down the hallway which had been cleared of people by the local authorities - everyone on this floor had been ordered to stay out until the investigation was complete. On either side of the hallway were doors leading into apartments, two doors grouped together then a space and another group of two doors. It was like that on both sides. Uniformed with no personal touches, which gave the long hallway a slightly empty feeling. An empty feeling that McGregor felt. Psi Cops, and for that matter everyone else in the Corps, were taught to be emotionless for the most part. Whether they admitted to it or not, everything for the Corps was control, and emotions cannot fall inside their sphere of control so they try to inhibit them, and for the most part they succeed. McGregor let her mind wander until she found herself outside the door to apartment 807. The local police had sealed the apartment with a force field controlled by a keypad temporarily mounted to the right of the door. A keypad to which McGregor did not have the code for. Without hesitation, she removed her PPG from its holster, aimed at the force field controller, and fired at point blank range. A shower of sparks and a small fire erupted before quickly snuffing itself out when the electronic box fell to the floor. The force field dropped and McGregor slid her "special" identicard into the slot. The door opened and McGregor stepped in, followed by her trained dogs on their tight leash. The security force on Rigel VIII was sloppy, by Corps standards at least, and McGregor had learned how to exploit that and get around it. The instant the force field controller stopped transmitting, it rang a small alarm in the local security substation's monitoring room. An instant later, shortly after she put her indenticard into the slot, the alarm stopped and the computer display registered a small malfunction, then put itself into a diagnostic cycle, preventing the detection of movement inside by the internal sensors. The Psi Corps had a hundred little toys like that up its sleeve, and many did not know about a fourth of them. Inside the apartment, the body of the former resident, 26-year-old Commercial Psi Corps officer Malcolm Marshal, had been removed, but the cleaning crew was still awaiting orders from the police to come in and clean the mess up so blood was everywhere. McGregor and her crew had seen this sight dozens of times in the past year and everything was the same in each case. A Psi Corps officer was found murdered in his or her home and the words "Remember Byron" were written in red paint, so as to appear like blood, on a wall nearby. It was the terrorist attacks of those who would see the Corps destroyed, and most of them the Corps had raised. Surveying the scene, McGregor saw something different this time: under the words "Remember Byron" was "Watch the skies" written in black ink in an almost gothic calligraphy style. She let out a barely audible sigh. Out of the dozens of murders she had investigated since the attacks began, she had only solved four of them, and out of those four only one person had been arrested. Hardly enough to stop the attacks. "Document everything and get blood samples for DNA analysis." She said. "And keep it quiet." She glared over at the second Bloodhound, who was somewhat shorter than she was. "Not like last time." He nodded and McGregor turned on her heels and left the apartment. Once she was walking down the hallway she tapped her link. "McGregor to Phillips, nothing new at number 29." Babylon 5 and all related elements are the exclusive property of Warner Brothers and JMS. No infringement is intended. No money is being made off of this story or Omega Fleet. All original elements of this story are the property of Mike Bell and April Oglesbee. Omega Fleet created by Mike Bell, April Oglesbee, and Ken Mencher. Story written by Mike Bell and April Oglesbee. http://omegafleet.cjb.net From: pharohb@ix.netcom.com Subject: The Changing Tides - Chapter 2 Date: Wed, 15 Dec 1999 18:38:59 -0500 This is chapter 1 of the first backstory for the Babylon Project: Omega Fleet, a play-by-email RPG that I co-run. This story was written by myself, Mike Bell, and April Oglesbee and sets up the events of the game, as well as tells the story of the beginnings of the Telepath crisis. The story takes place in January of 2263 If you are interested in the game, go to the website at: http://omegafleet.cjb.net or email me. - Mike Bell & April Oglesbee Chapter 2 - "Anomolies and Memories" "Zeta Leader to Zeta 4, break right and come around to course 219 mark 5." Was Commodore Michael Willis' voice over Zeta 4's comm system. 1st Lt. Dennis Wan, the Thunderbolt's pilot, cut his thrust by one-quarter and eased the control stick to the right until he had come around to course 219. He straighten up and flew towards the ship he was stationed on, the EAS Universe, an older Earth Force Omega-class Destroyer. "Go ahead and go home, Wan, there's nothing out here but rocks." Willis said as he surveyed the Margola Asteroid Belt on the Centauri/Drazi border. The Universe had been one of thirty ships loaned to the Interstellar Alliance for patrolling alongside the Whitestar Fleet. Since the Centauri had broken away from the ISA and entered into self-imposed isolation, tensions between races that bordered Centauri space were high, and most, the Drazi included, had appealed to President Sheridan for ships to patrol the area in case the Centauri got ambitious. The Universe was one of a three-ship group under the direct command of Admiral Marcus Rawlens, of the ISA's newly-commissioned Fifth Fleet. The other two ships were Whitestar 34, known to her crew as the Olympus, and the EAS Oberon, an Omega-X Destroyer with modified Shadow technology. Together the group had patrolled the Centauri/Drazi border for four months and so far had not been in combat with anything but a couple Raider ships. The Centauri, as promised, were keeping to their selves, but the tensions were still high and one small spark could set everyone off. That is why a neutral fleet patrolled the borders; to prevent an outbreak of violence, or worse, another war. That was why Michael Willis was a million light years away from where he wanted to be. He looked down at the cockpit panels, but more specifically at the picture attached to the thruster control panel. The picture had been taken the year before on a beach outside Los Angeles on Earth. In the picture there were two people. One of them was Michael himself, the other Captain Rena Wallace, his wife of almost seven years. Michael piloted his ship back toward the asteroid belt to make another patrol run and then let his mind wander back to that day... * * * Willis opened his eyes in the gentle morning heat. He breathed in the salty ocean air coming through the open window, turned over, and reached for Rena. However, Rena wasn't there. He stood and stretched with a yawn. Then, scratching the back of his neck, walked to the deck just outside of his and Rena's beach side room. In the moments that his eyes took to adjust to the bright sunshine, a faint outline of a person moved not far in the distance. When he could see better, he was able to make out Rena's black hair swinging against her back as she played in the surf of the waves. Watching her, he smiled. Grabbing a towel and putting on his swimming trunks, he headed out to join her. She had seen him coming and ran to meet him. She smiled brightly, her blue eyes flashing joy. Then she hugged him and tugged him out to the surf without saying a word. He followed her innocently, never suspecting she would push him face first into a salty wave. Laughing, she ran from him and onto the golden sand where she sat down. When Willis was able to breathe without sucking salt water up his nose and walk without being tripped by a stray wave, he came stalking after her. In his mind he was going to soundly dunk her as she'd done him, but as he walked to where she was sitting, he was overcome by love too much to think of anything but getting to her side. Rena sat with her with her bare legs bent up and her bare arms wrapped around her shins so that her chin sat on her knees and her toes wiggled in the sand. She grinned insufferably up at him when he stood over her, blocking the sunlight and causing a shadow to fall over her. "You asked for it." He said an instant before he flopped beside her onto the sand and tickled her sides so that she shrieked with laughter. Moments later they lay in the sand, watching the waves crash against the shore, arms wrapped around each other, Rena's head on Wills' chest. They were happy. She hummed to herself and traced lazy circles on his arm. "We go back soon, love." Michael suddenly said, breaking the peaceful silence of the surf crashing against the shore. "Mmhmm." She mumbled. "Back to work." He sighed. Their week-long shore leave on Earth would be over tomorrow morning when Willis returned to the Universe - that was currently in dock undergoing repairs - and Wallace took command of the EAS Hayward, an Explorer-class vessel that would be embarking on a mapping mission of the outer-rim. A mission that would take her away from him for the next two years. Rena came up on her elbow, one arm tossed over Michael's chest. "Are you worried Michael?" "I don't know if worried is the word for it. More like, dread." She smiled softly at him and leaned close so that her chin rested on his chest. "Don't worry anymore then. We'll go back and do what we've always done. So don't worry, love, because no matter what we do, no matter the distance we may end up being apart at times, my heart will always be beating right there with yours." She laid her palm flat over his heart and then kissed it. For the rest of the day, they lay like that, walked up and down the beach looking for shells, dozed beside each other sporadically in the sand, and swam in the salty ocean. That night, while she lay sleeping, he sat in a chair beside the bed and watched her. The sheet, that was pulled up to just below her shoulders, which could not be seen because her black hair fell down upon them, slowly rose and fell with her steady breathing. Her small face was bathed in the light of a full moon seeping through the large, bay windows. He made a mental note to always remember the way she looked then for as long as he lived. Michael had never forgotten what she'd said to him that day and neither had she. * * * Michael sat staring at the control panel with a soft half smile laying against his face. He ran a fingertip over the picture of Rena and him. Kissing his fingertips, he touched them to her still smiling face. But she wasn't there. The events of that day, which Willis had allowed to play out in his mind in mere seconds, happened almost a year ago. The next day Rena left for the EAS Hayward and he returned to the Universe. That had been the last time they had been together, and, save for vids and messages sent back and forth across the millions of light years between them, it would be the last time they saw each other for another year. "Anomalous reading detected." The Thunderbolt's computer announced. Immediately Willis' full attention was focused back on his fighter and reflexively he reached his hand out and hit a control on the cockpit's panel. On the heads-up display of his helmet a 3d grid map of the asteroid field he was approaching was displayed. Yellow dots indicated the asteroid, the green dot, his fighter moving toward the sea of yellow, and the red stationary dot the object the sensors detected. It was just sitting in the middle of the asteroid field, almost like it was dead in space. He started to increase the throttle then stopped himself as he entered the outermost edge of the asteroid field so that he could maintain better control over the Thunderbolt. "Computer, redirect power from backup systems to sensors." A moment later the computer beeped, alerting Willis it had finished redirecting power. "Alright, let's have a closer look, shall we." He muttered to himself. "Maximum power to scanners, let's see if we can't get a clear silhouette." The image on the HUD zoomed in to a large red dot rather than a small red dot on the map display. "Short and long range sensors are being jammed." The computer reported when nothing happened. "What is the source?" "Unknown." "Could the interference be caused by the asteroid field?" Willis asked. "Affirmative." The computer said, its voice unchanging throughout the conversation. Willis cursed under his breath. "Zeta Leader to Universe, I'm going in to investigate an unknown reading I've picked up in the minefield, please acknowledge." "Acknowledged, Zeta Leader." The voice of his XO, Commander Max Roberts, said over the comm channel which was filled with interference from the high concentration of the mineral morbitum in the nearby asteroids. "Should I have Delta Flight on stand by?" "Affirmative, and bring the ship in closer to the asteroid field. See if the ship's scanners can break through the interference." "Confirmed. Universe out." The comm channel beeped as it the Universe closed it. Willis turned to the port side to avoid smashing head-first into one of the larger asteroids, then he maneuvered back around and resumed his course for the object which lay five thousand kilometers ahead of him. He fought back impatience and the urge to increase speed as he slowly watched the distance tick down the display. His vision alternated between his cockpit displays, the HUD map, and the path ahead of him. While the Thunderbolt was currently in patch of the field that was empty of all but the smallest particles of rock, a pilot never knew when that would change because of a stray rock. At a distance of two thousand kilometers out, Cmdr. Roberts again radioed him. "Commodore, Captain Church of the Olympus reports she's having life support troubles and is requesting permission to leave the group." "Is it serious?" Willis asked. "Nothing that they can't handle until they get back to Starbase Nine." Was Roberts' answer. "Give her permission and notify the admiral." "Aye sir." Was the last thing Roberts said. A moment later the green dot that was the Olympus vanished from Willis' HUD map, then the red dot did the same. "Computer, what happened to the unknown object?" "Unknown." Five minutes later Willis' Thunderbolt arrived at the location of the anomalous reading and found nothing. * * * "It must've been a sensor echo from the Olympus." Roberts told Willis after the commodore had docked. The two of them were in the pilot's locker room while Willis changed from flight suit into his duty uniform. "The morbitum has been known to do that in the past." "Yeah, but why didn't it echo the Universe and the Oberon?" Willis argued while he slipped his black tunic over his head. "The Whitestar's active sensors operate on different frequencies then other ships, that could have something to do with it." Willis nodded. "True. Contact Captain Church when the Olympus comes out of hyperspace and ask her to send us the system logs from the time I picked up the object until they jumped." "Will do." "I'm going to go get some rest, I'll be in my quarters if you need me." A couple minutes later he entered his quarters. "Computer, messages." Willis said while unbuttoning his jacket. "One message from security, one message from Fleet Command, one message from Elizabeth Willis." The computer read off the list of messages and he sighed. It was the first day in months that he hadn't received a message from Rena. He didn't give it much thought and decided it best to take the sonic shower he had been patiently waiting for all afternoon. Babylon 5 and all related elements are the exclusive property of Warner Brothers and JMS. No infringement is intended. No money is being made off of this story or Omega Fleet. All original elements of this story are the property of Mike Bell and April Oglesbee. Omega Fleet created by Mike Bell, April Oglesbee, and Ken Mencher. Story written by Mike Bell and April Oglesbee. http://omegafleet.cjb.net From: pharohb@ix.netcom.com Subject: The Changing Tides - Chapter 3 Date: Tue, 21 Dec 1999 11:53:11 -0500 (EST) This is chapter 1 of the first backstory for the Babylon Project: Omega Fleet, a play-by-email RPG that I co-run. This story was written by myself, Mike Bell, and April Oglesbee and sets up the events of the game, as well as tells the story of the beginnings of the Telepath crisis. The story takes place in January of 2263 If you are interested in the game, go to the website at: http://omegafleet.cjb.net or email me. - Mike Bell & April Oglesbee Chapter 3 - "And the Sky Fell" Far beyond the tenth and last planet in the Rigelian system, a jump point formed and opened. A large point of black formed at the apex of the swirling mass of blue then enlarged as it sped forward out of the jump point into the hull of a Centauri Primus Battlecruiser which continued at a slower speed as it left the doorway into hyperspace to close behind it. From this far out of the system, the star Rigel appeared only slightly larger and brighter than any other star on the black backdrop of space. Ahead of the Centauri cruiser was a small orb of black that was the dark side of the small, uninhabited Rigel, it almost looked like someone had taken a pair of scissors and cut out a perfectly round hole in the tapestry of stars. The intruding ship was not new by any means. Its hull was scarred from uncountable battles and entire sections had been removed. Most of the weapons systems were cannibalized or destroyed beyond repair. If this ship ever saw another battle again it would be supremely lucky, and even more lucky if it survived that battle. * * * 2nd. Lt. Jeff Hanson graduated top of his class at the Earth Force Academy. He specialized in tactical defensive weaponry systems and had hoped that because of his excellent grades he would be posted to a starship or maybe space station, but no, he was posted to a boring position in the backwaters of the Earth Alliance - primary defense grid monitor for Rigel VIII and her moon. He was a night watchman who spent all his time staring at a holographic map of a planet where nothing ever happened. Tonight was normal. He came on at 2100 hours, relieving his supervisor, then grabbed a cup of coffee and sat down in front of the holographic display in the center of the room. A couple of ships - merchants, traders, and so forth - were in orbit around the planet, nothing special, and handful of small personal transports were coming or going. It looked as if tonight was going to be boring, just like the last three-hundred and forty nine, according to his count, nights he had spent working, but looks were deceiving. At 2345 hours Jeff was sleepily watching the news on ISN. Tonight's big story was EA research budget cuts, so mostly he dozed off, then woke up abruptly only to fall asleep again a couple seconds later. He was dozing off when the intruder alarm on his supervisor's station went off. The defense grid control center was protected at night by a level 4 force field on all levels and not by armed guards, which, if there was a problem, were summoned by the automated security systems and could be at the center in less than 3 minutes. Startled and half asleep, Jeff ran over to the station opposite his own. On the display were the words "Security Breech Detected" flashing in red while the shrill alarm rang throughout the center, giving Jeff the beginnings of a slight headache. Without hesitation he inputted his CO's command override code he had hacked from the computer system the night before, into the keypad and the alarm stopped. The security doors at the other end of the facility opened and eight men in plain clothing came in. Six of them carried PPG rifles with regular PPG pistols in holsters at their sides and the other two, equipment. They were Human, both in outward appearance and in biological characteristics, but they were something else: Telepaths. Dressed in plain clothes that looked almost tourist-like you could not tell them apart from any civilian on the planet. Three of them were bald, or almost bald, older men. One had long, brown hair down to his shoulders and looked no more than nineteen. And the last, the leader, was a tall, skinny man with his hair colored white. "Was the signal transmitted?" The leader asked. "Parts of it. I overrode the alarm before most of it could be transmitted." Answered Jeff with a hint of fear in his voice. The tall man motioned to the younger Teep who walked past Jeff without noticing him, sat down at the CO's station, and went to work. Jeff ignored him since whatever he was doing did not interest him, only one thing did. "When do I get my money?" "When we get through here without being killed, and when I say 'we,' Mr. Hanson, I include you in that as well." * * * It was a cold night but Allyson McGregor only wore a pair of shorts and a light sweatshirt as she jogged along the beach. It wasn't hard keeping the cold from bothering her, merely mind over body, which for her was not hard and in fact was something she had excelled at since the Psi Corps had taken - no, brought, she kept having to correct herself - her to Mars. She could remember spending endless nights alone in the dark bedrooms of the corps halls shivering even though everyone around her was sweating, her mind intensifying the emotional feeling that she was cold and alone, millions of miles away from the place where she was born. After jogging for 5 miles down the beach her legs finally became too tired to go on so she sat down in the sand and watched the crimson sunset over the ocean in the east. It looked almost the same as the pictures of sunsets on Earth that she had seen, but to her this was far better. Though she could not remember much of Earth or her biological parents, the Corps took care of that with conditioning at her young age, she could still remember the day she left. It was stuck in her mind as clear as if she was watching a vid of it, no matter how hard she tried she could never forget... * * * "Allyson McGregor?" A huge hulk of a man leaned down to stare icily into her eyes. The little Ally trembled, but nodded. She'd been called out of her kindergarten class to the principal's office. She had wanted to finish her picture, but they had made her come. "It's time for you to come home Allyson." The man's deep voice seemed to vibrate through the room. "But school's not over yet. My mommy is supposed to pick me up." "You're going to your real, new home now Allyson. It's where you belong. The Psi Corps is your father and mother now." "But I don't want to go." Tears started to stream down her face. "What about my mommy and daddy? I want my mommy!" Allyson wailed. "The corps is your only family now Allyson. Come along." Allyson felt herself grow cold. Someone was holding her still, but she was walking. How could she be held still and move? She didn't understand. She was scared. The man was taking her somewhere she didn't want to go. It was dark and cold in the ship. She wanted to cry, but she couldn't. The man wouldn't let her. She knew he was the one who wouldn't let her cry. She looked out of the door as it closed. She wanted to scream and run off of the horrible ship, but she couldn't. She couldn't...she could only be cold...she could only see darkness... * * * Allyson did not know how much time had past, only that now the sun was fully set and darkness had descended upon the beach when she awoke. There was still a touch of light blue on the eastern horizon, but the stars were already starting the come out above her head and she could no longer see the water, only a sea of darkness with the occasional star over where the horizon should be. She sighed, shivered, and then got to her feet. As she started back up the beach towards her parked hover car, something out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. She turned her head to the right and looked out over the ocean to a falling star slowly streaking through the night sky. At first Allyson was about to turn away, but then she saw another and another, then half a dozen streaking all in the same direction: New Houston. An instant after they disappeared below the horizon there was a string of flares of blinding light then a deep rumble in the distance which increased as it got closer and shook the ground, like a powerful earthquake, knocking Allyson off her feet. The wind picked up from the north, the direction of the explosions and New Houston, and blew sand into her eyes. Reflexively she shielded her face against the barrage of sand and turned away toward the ocean to see another barrage of falling stars heading in the opposite direction of the last toward the capital city, Riandria. From: pharohb@ix.netcom.com Subject: The Changing Tides - Chapter 4 Date: Tue, 21 Dec 1999 11:54:15 -0500 (EST) Chapter 4 - "Peace is Just a Word" "How the hell did Telepaths get their hands on Centauri and Narn ships and mass drivers?" President John J. Sheridan of the Interstellar Alliance said to his Chief of Alliance Intelligence, Teresa Halloran, over the StellarCom system in Sheridan's office on Minbar. "We're still trying to figure that out, Mr. President." She said from across the light years of distance between Minbar and her office on Babylon 5. "The best we can figure out is they bought the weapons off the black markets, it would've cost them but they could've gotten the ships and weapons they used since the Centauri have sold quite a lot of their older ships for money and the Narns'll just about sell to anyone." Sheridan leaned back in his chair and sighed. "Any word yet on casualties?" "Nothing confirmed, but it's going to number in the millions, and there's no way we can get medical ships in to help since they've setup a blockade." Sheridan nodded. "Keep me informed, Teresa. Sheridan out." The screen changed from her face to the ISA logo. Once again alone and with no interruptions, Sheridan picked up the preliminary report from the Rigel system he had been given an hour earlier by an aide. He'd read it several times over now and each time it had said the same thing. twenty eight Centauri cruisers and fifty three Narn ships, all complete with a complement of fighters, jumped into the Rigel system dangerously close to Rigel VIII itself. The ships quickly eliminated any other ships in orbit and landed ground troops, taking over what was left of tthe planet in less than seven hours. Since hours before a Centauri Primus Battle cruiser had entered orbit around the planet and obliterated many of the largest cities with mass drivers, they did not have much resistance. Once word of the incident reached the ISA, a group of renegade Telepaths claimed responsibility in a text-only message to ISN. The message itself closed with the words "remember Byron." As soon as Sheridan saw this for the first time he closed his eyes and sighed, admitting to himself the terrible mistake he had made a year earlier by allowing a group of Telepaths sanctuary on Babylon 5. Byron himself had become a martyr for his people, as he probably knew he would become before he killed himself. He had given Telepaths something they needed: a reason to fight, and kill, and die. Over the past 50 years everything had come to a boiling point, then erupted with Byron and his people's suicide on Babylon 5. Since then everything had gone to hell and it was only a matter of time before a full war broke out Sheridan was sure. * * * Commodore Willis was going in and out of sleep when the monitor on the other side of his bed blinked on with the face of Commander Roberts. "Commodore?" He called out into his CO's darkened quarters. He hated to wake him, but the news he felt the news he brought was more important than sleep. "Commodore?" He said, raising his voice a little higher. When this time he didn't get an answer he used the atmospheric controls from the bridge to turn the lights up in Willis' room. Roberts watched as his CO sat straight up in bed and groggily stared toward the computer screen. "What's going on?" Willis demanded. "I apologize for waking you, sir, but I there's something you should know." * * * "At 0800 Earth Standard Time this morning," the ISN news anchor said without remorse, "General William Marx announced that all contact with the EAS Hayward was lost. The Explorer-class ship was launched under the command of Captain Rena Wallace eleven months ago on a mission to map the outer rim sectors of grids Delta and Beta. Currently the Hayward is missing and feared destroyed, so a rescue operation is not currently planned." The screen in Willis' quarters flashed off, then back on again and started repeating the same broadcast. Willis himself sat and stared emotionless at the screen while the broadcast replayed for the twentieth time. The fear and the pain has not subsided on bit, in fact they increased each time the message replayed and Rena's picture was played in a box next to the newswoman's head. He closed his eyes, trying to escape. * * * A beautiful spring day in April, everything seemed surreal to Willis. He actually stood in a garden of flowers blooming in such abundance, he felt as though he'd wandered into a green house. A thick heady perfume of lilacs lazily swirled with the slight breeze Willis half expected soft, classical music to be playing someplace it was so perfect. Willis wasn't quite sure why he'd decided to wander to the gardens during his break in between seminars, but he decided that he liked it. The sheer beauty of everything around him stunned his senses into letting go of any pretenses or stress he may have suffered from the annual Earth Force Conference. He usually didn't bother with the nonsense of it all, but this time he had felt compelled to come. Whatever the reason, he was only mildly irritated by the hoard of pompous asses he'd met. Yet he felt like something was still waiting for him. The sound of angry voices distracted his relaxed mind. Annoyed, Willis decided to discover the problem and eliminate it for his peace of mind. He wandered further into the garden until the voices became so loud he very much wanted to strangle someone for the headache he was developing. However, the thought of strangling the neck he came upon was not as appealing as the thought of stroking it. A striking young woman with flashing blue eyes and long black hair was arguing fiercely with a tall blonde man. She looked as though she were going to leap at him any moment and bash the man's head in. Willis thought she looked beautiful. "I swear to God Justin, if you don't get out your stuff out of my room, I will kill you. I told you a long time ago, I have no interest in you and I never will. How the hell did you get the key to my room anyway?" Her voice had become low and husky with anger. "Oh come on Rena. You've never even given me a chance. You really should just accept that you're in love with me." Justin's whiny voice pleaded. The woman's mouth dropped open. "My God man...how can anyone be so dense and still keep his head from falling off his shoulders?! I said no! And I mean no! Now get your stuff the hell out of my room or I swear death will be the least of your fears." Her voice had practically become a growl. Willis had decided to intervene on the lady's behalf, but never had the chance. Justin had grabbed for her, his hand very slightly touching her waist. Rena had shrieked in fury and kneed the poor idiot in the stomach, causing him to drop to his knees. She had then begun to walk away from the wheezing man when he'd grabbed her ankle, tripping her enough so that she had begun to fall forward at an alarming speed. Willis was there. He grabbed her by the shoulders and set her back on her feet. The surprise in Rena's blue eyes lit a flame within Willis' soul. They seemed to drown within the depths of each other for what seemed an eternity. The wonderment had been broken by the whining and irritating antics of a certain idiot. Thoroughly disgusted with "Justin" by now, Willis tore his gaze away from Rena's. He leaned down toward the sad excuse for a man and lifted him up by his shirt collar. "You will remove your property from the lady's room. You will leave your key in her room as well. You will also apologize and never come near her again unless she deems you worthy to. Is that clear?" The cold and deadly intent of Mike's eyes staring into his, very nearly undid Justin. He barely had blood enough left in his head to nod a yes. Mike let the man go and nodded. then turned back to the now subdued Rena. "How very heroic, Mr...?" She smiled lopsidedly at him and raised one black eyebrow. His heart must have stopped. "Willis. But called me Mike." "Will do, Mike. My name is Rena Wallace, the owner of an unfortunate fate." Her eyes flashed with a hint of irritation that made the flame within Mike to grow a little more. "I hardly think you the owner of an unfortunate fate, Rena." Of their own accord, words seemed to pour from his mouth. "I never knew I would meet such an extraordinary woman here. I feel as though I've met you before." Rena didn't think, just started talking. "Well maybe we have met before. There's a story from somewhere or another that says that everyone's soul is spread about the universe in little pieces. When the person finds them, they feel a little more complete. But the story says that sometimes, the pieces get mixed up, and someone else gets another person piece and vice versa. So a little bit of someone is a part of you." Rena realized what she had said, then suddenly blushed. "I...uh...I fear I've gone off the deep end today." Mike felt a grin creep onto his face. "Maybe going off the deep end is a good thing. At least you've got company. I seem to have followed you in." Rena smiled brightly at him. "Would you like to have lunch with me, Mike?" "There's nothing I'd like more." The two wandered out of the gardens. Somehow Rena's arm had found its way around Mike's. * * * When Mike opened his eyes again the ISN story was still playing, and would play over and over again until he told the computer to stop. Somehow he knew that she was still alive and he knew what he had to do. * * * All across Rigel VIII ,and sent to the ISA and ISN, the same message was transmitted. "My name is Robert Marshall." The white-haired man said calmly. "I was a P-10 Psi Cop before the Corps took away everything I held dear to me and sent me to this place to work as a 'research assistant.' Now I am the provisional governor of a planet for Telepaths. The Corps does not exist here, it has no jurisdiction or place on this world from now on. All Psi Corps agents at the center in New Houston have been killed, and it is only a matter of time before we track down the Psi Cops and field agents. "When all the Corps Telepaths here are dealt with, you may take the Mundanes from this world, but do not attempt to attack us or you will regret it. We are more powerful than you realize and we are everywhere, and I do mean everywhere. Remember Byron." Allyson McGregor watched this intently from a hotel room she had rented in the outskirts of a small town eight hundred kilometers away from New Houston. She was far enough away from the main Psi Corps headquarters in New Houston - if anything was left of it - that she wouldn't be discovered for a few days, which would give her time to think and find any other Telepaths that may have escaped. Perhaps she could even flee to Mars or another Earth colony if the renegade's were true to their word in allowing Normals to leave the planet - which Allyson was doubtful they would be. She laid back on the hard pillows, and even harder mattress, and closed her eyes. Tomorrow she would look for the field agents assigned to the area and see if there was any organized Corps presence left, and if there wasn't, she would make one.