From: Sue Isle Subject: The Front Line 1/8 Date: Sun, 13 Jul 1997 10:26:45 +0800 (WST) This is a late third season/early fourth Babylon 5 story. It was written for fun and is not intended to breach any copyright associated with the television production Babylon 5. This section is set around the time of _Ship of Tears_ For those who've read the B5 list for some time, it also brings back my character Diamond, who joined the Corps at the age of 13 in my story _Psi Search_. Sue ____________ THE FRONT LINE Part 1 A Babylon 5/Psi Corps Story by Sue Isle "Read this folder." The older psicop pushed the leatherbound papers over the table to her. "Definitely the best possible choice." He smiled, the expression not reaching his eyes. "You're one of our most promising young people; we want to do well by you." The girl looked back at him. Her brown hair was smoothly brushed back and held in a ponytail, giving a severe impression to her young face. "But I don't even know this man." "I know. I'd be surprised if you did; he's at our Syria Planum base, on Mars, and you haven't done any travelling yet. You're not far off eighteen; it's definitely time you got some real experience. All our young telepaths must do intern time, usually with a Psicop, and for those who will be Psicops themselves, it's particularly important. Take that with you, it's yours." He left through a doorway at the back of the room, leading to one of the passageways Diamond Kernock still wasn't privileged to use. She got up and left, taking the folder with her. People got out of her way in the elegant marble-floored corridor outside, but she didn't even notice. Technically she had a class, but she knew nothing would stay in her mind today. She didn't have any problems with Alien Economics anyhow. All my problems are with humans, she thought, screening the sudden rebellious flash with automatic skill. No one in the Corps was supposed to scan another telepath, but it was considered rude to send out 'arrows' they'd have to shield against _not_ to read. She wanted someone to talk to, but none of her friends were around. Scott Renier, perhaps her best friend among her age-mates, was off in Europe somewhere, having already begun his internship. They'd always thought they would be assigned to one another as partners, but this was looking less likely if they were sending her to another world. She didn't love Scott and was sure he didn't love her, but they were friends, they got along. That evidently wasn't enough for the Corps. The Corps had trained her and given her everything she could possibly want. Now they expected a return on their effort. War was raging out in space with half of Earth hunting the other half, or so it appeared. Babylon 5 station had broken away and declared itself a separate state... It could not be long before the madness extended to Mars and then what would it matter that there'd be another telepath hunting for Psi Corps? After all, they weren't _that_ important, were they? She found one of the refreshment lounges and settled down in a big leather chair to read about Psi Corps on Mars. There was very scanty detail on the Psicop she'd be interning with and not much more on the base. Most of it emphasised the importance of the facility and of maintaining the Corps' strength on Mars. They didn't trust her for more, not yet, and certainly if this file had held anything classified, it would never have been left with her. The ship travelled safely to Mars, under heavy guard. Diamond didn't know what the warships were, that shielded them, and didn't ask. She was the only passenger; this craft belonged to the Corps. Most likely the warships did too. The little shuttle landed in a wail of storms and red dust. She was hastily escorted through a dim tunnel to the airlock of the dome and passed from hand to hand like an awkward parcel. A woman in the familiar black uniform came to her. "I'm Mari Valdez; welcome to Mars HQ. Your luggage will be delivered to your quarters, so come along." Not friendly, but not hostile either, someone doing her job. Diamond glanced at the face, sensed the strength of the barriers there without testing them. They walked along, leaving the ship crew and the dome security people behind them. No one else was in the cold gray passage and it felt as though the place was deserted of anyone but the Corps. Was anyone else in this dome at all? From winding passage to passage, they reached the inside of a larger building, apparently windowless. Mari gave no more information and Diamond did not ask. "Here's your quarters. Someone will be in touch in the morning. Is there anything else you need?" "Just to know the time." Some of her weariness got through despite Diamond's intention to remain cool and professional. Mari Valdez softened just a little. "Two am." "Sorry to get you up." "That's all right. I didn't have a chance to go to bed anyway." She smiled, just a little. "Get some rest." She would, she thought, appreciate the lighter gravity of Mars. The luxury of the large apartment as such did not impress her that much, not after three years living with the best Psi Corps could offer. She felt isolated, unable to call up her friends all around Psi Corps for chat or a meeting to see a movie or have pizza. She'd been learning to fly a shuttle; no doubt those lessons would be put on hold now. For a while longer she roamed about the apartment, trying out the comlink, the television, the food service - seemed you could shut yourself away and interact with the universe on purely a virtual footing for years - and finally fell asleep across the large bed, still dressed. She was woken by the intercom beeping at her door and a voice out of the past asking, with growing impatience, if Diamond Kernock was actually there or whether his computer was afflicted with an illusion virus. Diamond leapt off the bed, her head fuzzy with the sudden movement, desperately grabbed a comb with one hand and straightened her tunic with the other on her way to the door. Her caller had his hand raised to the beeper one more time as she opened it. She was eye to eye with him. Alfred Bester. "Sorry, sir, I was asleep. Two am arrival . . . " "It is eleven now," Bester pointed out, his gaze flicking over the creases in her tunic. "And you should be in Psicop uniform. Always, out of your quarters, you must be in uniform. I will wait while you change." His look said he had better not have to wait long. Diamond fled. She fumbled with the uniform; brand new and never worn, given to her just before she left so she hadn't even tried it on. Her face looked different, above the close collar. Older. Her eyes had a deeper, almost haunted cast, as though they belonged to someone else.. "Yes." Bester's voice. He appeared in the mirror behind her, nodding slightly, as dark-aspected as Diamond felt. "Come now, you must meet the others." "Sir - am I to intern with you?" She wasn't sure how she felt about that, if it was the case. He had taught her and Scott for a short time, the only P12 students of their age group, and he had frightened her. She'd felt then that she would never get close to his kind of power, but she'd learned a lot from him. "No. You'll meet him soon." She walked with Bester along an upper level walkway, "outside" that is, with only the translucent dome itself far overhead to shut out the chill hostility of Mars' atmosphere. It gave a reddish tint to the green Earth vegetation growing in the gardens to either side. "There will be other work, of course, but we must see how you settle in." Distracted, Diamond thought, glancing at him. A lot's worrying you. And what does "work with" mean when this isn't a Psi Corps academy? He was shielded beyond her ability to break, even if she'd considered such a thing. She had never thought such a cold-hearted, deadly individual could be concerned by anything. Then she caught a brief flash, an image of a space station revolving above a planet. Babylon 5. Then the gap was closed and Bester continued as though he didn't realise what he'd shown her. "You will get a chance to continue your flying lessons, when the Martian weather permits. Garth is quite a skilled pilot." Garth. Of course, now she remembered; that was the name of the Psicop in that file, who was supposed to be her first tutor in the adult life of the Corps. She felt stupid, but Bester did that; if he was around, one's brains dodged for cover. No doubt he'd come for her this morning to study her, to get another look at what he'd be dealing with. She'd been a child when they last met. He was barely taller than she was now, Diamond thought, aware that this was irrelevant.. The power within was far more than the stocky, unimpressive physical body. Had he ever loved anybody? She couldn't blame him if he had never risked it. They always went away or they lied to you. There was no one _she_ wanted that much, not even Scott. Since their days on Babylon 5, she had never really been close to Scott or been able to trust him. "Can I ask you something, sir?" she said suddenly, stopping by the rail. "That depends," Bester said, logically enough. She hesitated further and he asked, "Shall I look for it?" This offer was common enough within the Corps, among groups of friends when someone was struggling to explain something, but Diamond shook her head nervously. "I just wondered . . . does your little girl live in your family or is she in the Corps nursery?" The chief Psicop favoured Diamond with a raised brow and then answered amiably enough: "She did, until she was five years old, when she was taken to the Corps nursery. She needed detailed training and attention which neither my wife nor I, since both of us travel widely, were able to give her." He started walking again and Diamond moved quickly to catch up. She expected a board meeting, not a high- ceilinged airy room filled with plants and a big acquarium with brilliant, indifferent fish. Seven other black-clad men and women were already there, but Bester's stride was unhurried as he entered. Diamond dropped back as he went up to greet the group. The two other females took brief stock of her, then ignored her. From a distance she inspected the stranger, a tall sturdily built man with a mess of thick brown hair and a relaxed way of moving. Bester talked to him for a few moments and then sent a silent order to her. "This is Diamond Kernock, who has joined us from Earth. Diamond, this is Garth Kalder." "I am glad to meet you," Garth said and Diamond, with some surprise, realised it was genuine. His brown eyes considered her thoughtfully and with a certain curiosity. Bester, still silently, ordered them all to take their seats. They did, like a group of people about to enjoy a social afternoon, in the comfortable leather seats, drinks at hand if desired and a P3 or 4 to pass them out. Diamond listened to them talk about "the facility" and "the runners" and various other topics that meant little to her without deep scanning, which she could never do. When the talk petered off and Bester took a couple of the others off for further chat, Garth Kalder appeared at her shoulder. "Have you been off Earth before?" Diamond shook her head. "I've never been out of the city where I was born." "This is more like a village," he said, "the closed dome, I mean." "Do we go to the other dome cities, outside of Psi Corps, I mean?" "We do. You will, when you're trained." He was not what she expected, this Psicop, he didn't make her immediately wary the way Bester did. Perhaps this might be all right. "I'm glad," Garth said, "but you'll have to learn to shield better. Yours work against most telepaths, but not to another Psicop. Come on, let's go. They don't need us for anything and we should get started." End of part 1 --------------- MESSAGE b5-creative.v001.n448.2 --------------- From: Sue Isle Subject: The Front Line 2/8 Date: Sun, 13 Jul 1997 10:27:33 +0800 (WST) MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; charset=US-ASCII This B5 story was written for fun and is not intended to breach any copyright associated with the television production Babylon 5. Sue THE FRONT LINE Part 2 A Babylon 5/Psi Corps Story by Sue Isle He led her to one of the coffee shops, an open-fronted, casual place designed to make one feel relaxed, or so Diamond supposed. As though you were mingling with the general public, watching the world go by. Looking at Garth wrecked that illusion. That black uniform certainly stands out, Diamond thought wryly, wishing she could just wander out in jeans and a T-shirt. But Bester's orders had been plain. Garth settled himself down, facing the greenery on the walkway. "How long have you been in the Corps?" "Four years. They grabbed me out of school." "They don't waste any time once they spot you," he commented and it was impossible to tell what he thought of this. "No," Diamond agreed, thinking of the baby the Corps had told her she'd one day have to have. They'd never marry her to Garth now, which was almost a pity. He seemed kind, though she had almost forgotten what kindness was. For the Corps, everything was in a ledger; for every action, an equal and appropriate reason. She turned her attention to the cheese and salad sandwich which had been unobtrusively delivered. It was good, not tasting like something whose basic ingredients must've been flown from Earth. When she mentioned this to Garth, he grinned. "Hydroponics would have a cat. No, the wheat and vegetables are grown here in greenhouses, and there's a dairy herd. Would you like to see the farm? I have some free time." Diamond regarded him for a moment. "Thanks. I'd like that." There were goats as well as cows, all extremely tame and eager for attention, crowding to the fences of their pens when they saw the two Psicops approaching, accompanied by Bryce, a wary P2 whose suspicious attitude eased somewhat when he saw Diamond's delight in the animals. Garth leaned on the fence of a corral, watching him. "She's just a kid," he said very quietly. "She wanted to see the animals. Sometimes, the surface is the truth." Bryce shrugged. "You can't blame me for wondering." "Do you have any horses?" Diamond asked, turning from petting an Angora goat. "Can't use them," Bryce replied. "No use for milk and folk won't eat them for some strange reason." "You're not from Earth, are you?" Bryce smiled at last. "Now, how would you be telling that?" "You don't think of horses as anything special. Earth people do." "And why's that?" "Because they - they ride them, I guess. They used to ride them in wars and they explored all over the world with them. That right, Garth?" The older Psicop tried to hide his amusement. "I'm not an historian." "Could I help with the animals?" Diamond asked Bryce. "When I was little, my folks had a dog. It - I don't know what happened to him when they died. We don't have animals in the Corps and I sort of miss them. I wondered . . . " She stopped when she saw the wall rise up between them once more. It was almost a tangible thing. "Your seniors won't let you," Bryce said. "Trust me." He nodded and went off along the animal pens, apparently forgetting their presence. Diamond walked slowly out of the huge barn. Garth kicked himself for having let her hopes rise that way, just when she had at last seemed to be having a good time. "I'm sorry," he said. "That's okay. I should have realised. I guess I can visit them anyway. Garth, why would the Corps not . . . " "It would take your attention away from the Corps." Diamond stared up at him. "I don't _have_ any life outside the Corps. There's no one in this whole dome who isn't Psi Corps." "You could have." "I don't think you're supposed to talk to me like that, are you?" "Are you going to report me?" "Don't be dumb." She gave him a quick, nervous smile, then walked on as though shy of looking at him. That fast, Diamond thought ruefully; the telepath's curse. Just as they couldn't lie to one another, she could sense the potential spark between her and this man she scarcely knew. It might be no more than friendship, but it was a warmth she would never get from most of her fellow P12s. Two days later, she was growing impatient. She'd seen the admin facilities, the gyms, the gardens and the so- called shopping mall. Of the real work, she had seen nothing. Garth had interrogated her - possibly the gentlest such she'd had - but when he was done, there was no facet of her schooling within the Corps and her life in general that he didn't know, saving only Babylon 5. _That_ she had locked away in a small area within her mind, a skill Bester himself had taught her. So far Garth had commented only that she was holding a few things back and in time, she would have to trust him with those. Now, when he met her for lunch, she asked him point blank. "When am I going to know why I am here?" "You will," Garth said. "When they're sure of you." "And are you testing me?" "Look." He tapped his forehead and let down his barrier. Diamond sensed it, knew she'd only have to reach the slightest amount and she'd know the truth. "No," she said. "Tell me what the base is for." "To hold those who refuse to join the Corps or take the drugs to suppress their telepathy," he said. Diamond gawked; she had not expected an answer! "This is a prison?" "Yes." "And we guard - control them, the runners?" "In the end reckoning, that's what we're for. The strongest ones can't be controlled by anyone less." "When will I . . . " "Soon. We need you." That night, the other domes on Mars, those inhabited by miners and scientists and other mundanes, were bombed by the forces of President Clark after they declared their independence. Diamond was woken by the announcement, piped through by Corps Communications. It was 3am in Mars' 25 hour day. She was too edgy to go back to sleep, yet worried about disturbing Garth, the only person she thought she knew well enough to call. Then she shrugged; what harm would it do? She called his number and was relieved to see a reasonably-awake Garth, wearing a truly lurid lime green shirt with his uniform pants, appear onscreen. "Oh . . . Diamond." He seemed taken aback and Diamond thought, with an empty feeling in her gut: he was expecting another call. "Sorry. I'm tying up your line." "No, wait. I am expecting a call, but it could be hours. Why don't you come over? I'll put the coffee on." He broke the link and she stared at it for a moment, a little disconcerted. Telepaths notoriously had no use for small talk or polite lies, but this was brusque even for one of the Corps. She changed her nightrobe for black uniform pants and a dark red silk blouse, splashed water on her face to at least look alert, combed her hair back and left the apartment. She wasn't the only one moving through the tunnels below the Psi Corps Dome. None of the others paid much heed to her and she got to Garth's apartment quite quickly. He opened the door at once and smiled distractedly at her. They made eye contact for only a moment, but in that second, perhaps because of fatigue and that distraction, Garth projected. The image was of Babylon 5 turning serenely in space. Diamond stared at him, the image causing her to flash-back to three years ago when she and Scott had been sent to the station as spies whom no one would even think to suspect; children! "They're going to call you, aren't they, the B5 station?" The words were out before she could halt them and she was appalled at herself. The merest novice telepath knew better than that! "I'm sorry," Garth said. "It's me, not you. I can't get it out of my head." He gestured a little nervously. "The bombing. Mars tries to follow B5's move to independence, but it's much closer to Clark's authority and he'll make it pay for its own audacity and the station too." He looked at her. "You know Babylon 5 too, don't you? I got a glimpse of it from your mind. I don't think either of us are safe to go out for a while. Come and sit down." He made coffee and brought the mugs out, as well as slices of ginger cake which Diamond nibbled at. The images of bombing were still going on and Garth looked grimmer every moment. "I was about fourteen," Diamond said. "They sent me and someone else there, to pretend to be normals." Aware that this could mean death if she was telling the wrong person, she told her secret for the first time. A great weight seemed to lift from her as Garth listened, not commenting. When she finished, he began, telling her a story of hunting "Shadows", creatures only a telepath could see, and the once-human being called Morden who worked with them for the destruction of his race. "They were on ISN," Diamond whispered when he was done. "I mean, one of their ships." "That picture was obtained by a Starfury pilot at the cost of his own life." The outside world, Diamond thought, the world beyond the safety and luxury which the Corps lavished upon its own. The world where a space station could distrust its own government so much that it would break away from that rule. She'd always taken it for granted that Clark and his people had Earth's best interests at heart - just like the Corps. The com beeped and Garth sprang to answer it. "If you stay in this room, you'll hear things you shouldn't," he warned. "You think that'll make me go?" The woman on the screen was a stranger, a tense, suspicious-faced stranger who smiled briefly at Garth, then stared at her. "Who's this, Garth?" "Diamond Kernock. Diamond, this is Aline Lorell. Ali, she's known to station personnel, I believe. Would anyone vouch for you, Diamond?" "I think . . . I think Commander Ivanova might." Brows rose and the woman shrugged. "If you know the Commander at all, you wouldn't dare lie, Psicop or not. She one of yours, Garth?" "Only one of mine so far," he said mildly. "Slow. All right. Garth, things are about to break apart where you are. I can't tell you too much more, but if you're going to get out, do it. We'll need you here - we'll need as many telepaths as we can." Then the link broke. Diamond couldn't be sure it was deliberate and nor could Garth, by the way he stared at it. The images of a burning dome and a suited reporter in front of it returned. "Will you come, at the right time?" Garth asked. "Just like that?" "Exactly like that. You made eye contact, couldn't you tell?" Diamond nodded. She didn't think she needed telepathy to read the woman's sincerity. She looked down at herself, grimacing. Her tunic was back in the apartment. "You won't need that when we go." "But . . . " She'd feel naked in just the shirt and pants, without the Corps insignia. "How can I run out on the Corps?" "You won't be. You think I would? Relax, we aren't running for the airlock this moment, we can't. But the chance may come at any time in the next few weeks and when it does, we can't worry about what we might be leaving behind. Do you know, truly know, anything of what Babylon 5 is fighting?" She thought of the minds she'd touched, the fierce will to protect which she had detected, and nodded. "Then you know we aren't running out. We'd be heading for the front line." Diamond took a deep breath and leaned back on the couch, staring at the screen without seeing it or hearing the reporter's anxious voice. Garth gave her extra shielding training, saying they really only had to watch out for the other Psicops, particularly Bester. "Only?" Diamond asked. "He _trained_ me; I know what he can do. If he wants to look in my mind, all he has to do is open the door!" "Bester's got something on _his_ mind," Garth told her and to her amazement, he grinned broadly. "Unless you make him suspicious, he won't be bothering about you or me or anyone's thoughts." "What?" They were walking 'outside' below the outer dome's translucent protection. It gave at least the illusion of open air and freedom. Garth laughed, but seemed disposed to answer when Garth's com beeped and when he answered, a voice delivered a summons for both of them to the facility. Diamond had to keep from jumping guiltily. "Where do we go?" "This way." Just another corridor beneath the chill red world, just another door, and they were in another place altogether. Diamond shivered at the mental feel of it; despair and loneliness bounced one another off the walls and she shifted closer to Garth, unthinking. "Shield," he said very quietly. "You'll need it." She did, calling on all her lessons, all the power that made her a P12, one of the elite. Ahead they saw Bester's stocky black-clad form. He did not call to them or wave as Diamond still dimly remembered normals doing when they wanted to attract your attention, be sure you'd seen them. Bester simply knew. "We have trouble with Paul Forest," he said, "and I have another one to see to. I believe you are able to assist Garth." He spoke to Diamond with his usual clipped, rather odd formality, acknowledging her for precisely what she could do, no more and no less. Garth's expression was grim as he headed away, with Diamond hastily following before he got out of sight around a turn. He didn't say anything more to her to prepare her, but when Diamond felt the shock of the mind that awaited them, she knew he couldn't have. End of Part Two --------------- MESSAGE b5-creative.v001.n448.3 --------------- From: Sue Isle Subject: The Front Line 3/8 Date: Sun, 13 Jul 1997 10:32:48 +0800 (WST) MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; charset=US-ASCII This story was written for fun and is not intended to breach any copyright associated with the television production Babylon 5. This part is set around the time of_Ship of Tears_ Sue THE FRONT LINE Part 3 A Babylon 5/Psi Corps Story by Sue Isle They walked into a cell. It was larger than her idea of what a prison room, gleaned from vids, might look like, but it was just as bare and comfortless. The hard, monastic bed was shoved over on its side, the bedding strewn over it like a pale shroud. The occupant stood in front of it, glaring at them. He was also pale, bleached as though from time spent in here, though none of them saw the sun of Earth, pale brown hair, ice blue eyes. It took Diamond a moment to realise he was young, maybe only twenty two or so. He wore plain gray garments, not marked in any way, that nonetheless screamed institution. "Why do you bother?" he asked. "I can't get out of here!" But in the instant of speaking, he lunged hard at Diamond. She jumped back, only then realising that the other telepath had not in fact moved, it was the sheer force of his sending which had rocked her. She slammed shields and visualised ramming equal force back at him. Forest staggered, a surprised look in his eyes. Garth had closed in on the other side, both of them holding Forest still by will alone. Diamond saw that he was bleeding from his forehead; either he'd cut himself on a leg of the bed or from striking his head against the wall. "We bother," Garth said as easily as though he hadn't been expending most of his psi power in restraining Forest, "because if you would be sensible, you could leave this isolation cell. You would have better food, access to the library and exercise facilities." Forest grinned, a look as chill as his eyes. "And if I would be even more sensible, I'd join the Psi Corps or at least let you drug me once a week, hm?" "You said it," Garth agreed. "You could be a Psicop, you know. You . . . " "That's a prison worse than anything I'm in," Forest said softly, turning his back on them. "You and this little girl with you that they've locked up before she's even learned anything about life." Diamond laughed, but Garth was silent as he looked at the man before him. She waited for him to deny what Forest had said, but he did not. "Will you be calm now?" he asked. "Can we let you go?" "You'll never do that." Garth scanned him, a quick, professional examination for signs of suicide-inclination or intent to do himself further violence. Satisfied, he collected Diamond with a quick mental tap and they left the room. "How many people are here?" she whispered. "Oh, between two and three hundred, I think." "All from Mars?" "No, some from other colonies, even some from Earth. That's what this facility is for, controlling these people. Some of them are as strong as a Psicop, like Forest there, except that he isn't trained. His parents hid him and the Corps didn't catch up with him until a year ago." As they went, Diamond kept looking about, wondering if the whole facility was nothing but cells opening on to the corridor. There were other corridors, visible through glass-topped doors, but these were locked. Other telepaths passed her, sometimes sending polite greetings - it was not wise to piss off P12s - but no one stopped. They passed through a set of sliding doors into an open-plan common area, with a pseudo-outdoors setting of ferns and a fountain spraying into a pool set into gray stone. Nearby were seats, some occupied by people who tensed and stared at them until it became apparent they weren't interested in them. Diamond briefly noted 'warders', telepaths who stood and watched the others, a subtly different mental telegraph about their body language. Through another set of doors, inside again, and past more cells, some of them clearly group arrangements. Garth seemed to know where he was going. She noted that the cells here were rather more comfortably appointed than the one in which she'd seen Forest. Good behaviour sector? She was looking through the windows which formed part of these doors, when she saw a back she recognised. Bester. Standing, talking to someone who sat on the bed, tossing her long dark hair back as she moved. Someone who looked at Alfred Bester with sober, reluctant affection and reached out a hand to him. He took it, let her draw him down to the bed. Belatedly Diamond moved on, terrified he'd sense her or turn or something! She understood Garth's amusement now, but damn him, couldn't he have said something? When she turned to him, starting to speak, he shook his head and led them on another twenty paces or so before pausing. "Here's where we separate for awhile. I'm to take you to where they have the teens. Bester wants you to work with others your age and younger for a time. Someone like Forest would knock you flat, unless you worked in a team, and we don't have the personnel to spare you a sheepdog - that's yours truly - most of the time." "They ought to bring Scott here." She flashed a brief image of her cool, sapphire-eyed age-mate to him and Garth laughed quietly. "That one. I remember hearing about him. You're right, he _could_ handle an adult even now, but the Corps has other plans for Mr Renier. Here we are." Diamond let go of him as they reached a door, aware of a brief emptiness as she lost contact. Some kind of a bond already, she thought, watching Garth open the door and go through. "I'll see you afterwards, maybe we could have dinner?" He paused to greet the telepath who came towards them, older than Diamond but with a much weaker mental signature. "David Tagawa, this is Diamond Kernock, the new P12. I have to get going, see you later." "Thank God," said Tagawa when the door closed again behind Garth. "I thought they were going to leave me here all day by myself again." He was maybe twenty, Diamond thought, weary-looking and rather unkempt, forever pushing back lank black hair. She looked about the area, which resembled a hospital waiting area, with low tables and benches. Vidcom was on the wall behind Tagawa, beside a door which Diamond bet led to more cells. "On your own? How many kids are here?" "Twenty three," Tagawa said, wiping his forehead. "I'm P9, but there are still seven of those who could wipe the floor with me. They're the highest level telepaths from all over Earth and the Colonies and they give 'em to me. I keep asking for more people to help me but they keep telling me they don't have them." "Uh, what do we have to do?" "Mostly just be here. Pacify them, stop them hurting themselves if they get agitated. Block them when they start working on you to open the doors and let them out of here. They do that a lot. Doesn't help, of course, there's nowhere to go but the dome, but there's a few who don't even believe we're on Mars." He sighed again. "There are quite a few low-level telepaths who work in here, doing the cleaning and feeding and so on, but without a Psicop to ride herd, some of the kids here could just take 'em over." "But they aren't trained, are they?" "Some are, some broke away from the Corps after they were brought in. But come on, I'll show you through." Diamond looked through the one-way glass into the rooms. They were spacious enough, more like college dorm rooms than cells, with posters, computers and plants set about them. In most, there were three or four kids ranging in age from fourteen or so to young men and women of Tagawa's age. He pointed out the seven high-psis to her. "Dena's P12," indicating a girl of about fifteen with cropped black hair, who sat alone in her room, reading. "And in the next one, Travis is P11 and so's Margaret." "They have to be on their own?" "Those three, yeah. They'd work together against you, fry even your brain." Tagawa showed her the other four of too high a grade for him to deal with alone, all P10, all in solitary confinement. Diamond stared through the glass at Dena, locked up like a prisoner, though she had committed no crime but that of being born a telepath and refusing to join the Corps. She wondered whether Dena's parents had been runaway telepaths too or whether the talent had simply burst out in her. The way it did in me, she thought woodenly, except I never even considered not joining the Corps! And then when I found out my normal friends hated me, there was nowhere else to stay. "Can I talk to her?" she asked suddenly. "You can do what you want. You're in charge here. I'll be right outside if you need help." End of Part 3 --------------- MESSAGE b5-creative.v001.n448.4 --------------- From: Sue Isle Subject: The Front Line 4/8 Date: Sun, 13 Jul 1997 10:33:24 +0800 (WST) MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; charset=US-ASCII This story was written for fun and is not intended to breach any copyright associated with the television production Babylon 5. This part was written around the time of _Ship of Tears_ Sue THE FRONT LINE Part 4 A Babylon 5/Psi Corps Story by Sue Isle At the end of that long, grim shift, Garth came for her. Diamond felt she wasn't the same person who'd gone in or else Psi Corps itself was somehow not the same. Garth took one look at her and hustled her quickly out of the building, back to his quarters by way of one of the underground tunnels. Once inside, Diamond turned to him and hugged him fiercely. Garth took her to the couch and just sat there with her. "That girl," she whispered. "She's only fifteen, but she's a P12 telepath. They keep her and the others locked up on their own like - like they were serial killers or something, too dangerous even to mix with other 'prisoners'. Garth, she didn't do anything! Her parents hid her for three years after her telepathy showed up. They kept moving from town to town, she got taught at home, she never went anywhere or had any friends. Then the Corps caught her." "Why didn't she join when she had the chance?" "They killed her parents when they took her. They tried to fight back . . . " Amazed, Diamond realised she was crying. Garth stroked her hair and didn't say anything. "She hates us - all the Corps - so much. I asked her wasn't there something she'd like, that I could bring her, and she said a knife so she could kill herself." Diamond took several breaths when she finished speaking, triggered one of the exercises for a telepath to shut out overwhelming emotion, and sat quietly for at least ten minutes. "There's something else, Garth. Bester. I saw him - did you mean me to see him - with that woman. How could he _do_ that? As well as everything else she has to endure . . . " "Since you saw them," Garth said slowly, "you must also know she's not being forced to do anything." "But it's still . . . " Diamond dredged up a phrase from her world before the Corps. "Taking advantage." "If she can get any happiness at all, would you deny that to her?" Diamond pulled away from him and got too quickly to her feet. Slightly dizzy, she glared at him, at the black uniform and the badge he wore, just like hers. "You're confusing me on purpose." "No, I'm not. You want me to somehow make it all right and I can't. I can't say there's anything good about that facility." "I'm not a child!" "You're seventeen." There was nothing she could get a handle on, to use as a means of striking him and through him, the Psi Corps itself. My sheepdog, Diamond thought, seizing the term Garth himself had used. She was effectively herded. She couldn't refuse to do her work; that was an iron-clad contract between herself and the Corps, seen as such by any court in the galaxy. If she didn't go in there, the captive telepaths would suffer for it. It was just possible that her example might persuade one or two of them to join the Corps. She couldn't blame Garth for any of it; he might be older, but he was ruled by the Corps just as she was. "Think about this," he said quietly. "This girl Dena; you say she was hidden by her parents for three years?" "Because of the Corps!" "Yes, but also because of the normal people. I think you know for yourself that telepaths are often feared and mistrusted. How did the Corps find her? We don't do house to house searches on the off chance that somebody might be hiding a telepath. Someone had to tell them something, perhaps someone the parents trusted. In hiding, what sort of a life did she have? How could she ever get a job, get married, even go out and enjoy herself?" "I didn't set the world up like that!" "No. Nor did the Corps. The original Psi Corps was a ghetto, just a huge camp where telepaths were put. No one really understood what they were or about the levels of skill; they were just scared." "I've studied the history." "So you know that the Corps acted to protect themselves." "They made us," Diamond said, pointing at his badge. "Still to protect. If telepaths banded together and acted against normals, want to guess how long they'd last? If the hatred of a world was fanned against us? The Psicops are necessary; we ensure that normals do not become too frightened of telepaths. There must be controls within, or there is chaos. Even among the P12s." * * * Four weeks later, the chaos came much closer. "Diamond! Open the door, one of you!" She rolled over in bed, still almost asleep. It wasn't time to go to work, she was on afternoon shift and had only had about four hours of rest. Garth was due for breakfast, but he was hours early if this was him. "Hold on," she called out, yawning. "Got to get dressed." She pulled a T-shirt on without looking at it, and her uniform pants, then padded sleepily for the door and keyed it. It was not Garth, but Bester outside. "Oh," she said, mind too fogged to be diplomatic. "I didn't know it was you. Uh, come in, sir." Bester did, obviously agitated. He looked about, then back at her. "Where's Kalder?" "I'll call him," Diamond thought it best to say. Bester waved permission and sat down on one of the heavy white leather lounge suite without being asked. Garth had been asleep too; she could tell by his expression, but he caught on fast and said he'd be there asap. Diamond went into the kitchen to make coffee and brought a mug out to Bester, who took it with an awkward nod. Black, no sugar. She'd done a surface scan to get that and he hadn't detected it, another first. Garth arrived in a rush, wearing a lime green shirt which made Bester blink, but he said nothing about the uniform violation. Diamond passed him a mug of coffee as well. "I have been away," Bester began, no surprise. "To Babylon 5." That _was_. "On my journey back, I tried to think of who I could talk to about what happened, and of all the people here on this base, the only ones I felt that I could trust were the two of you. I know you are aware of me and Carolyn, yet you have not spoken of this to anyone who would be forced to pay attention." He glanced at Garth, settling himself on the couch by Diamond. "Your business," Garth said after a pause that seemed to require some answer. "And if you'll forgive a personal remark, she seemed to want you. Why should I interfere?" Bester nodded as though he had his answer. He semed to breathe a little easier. "Now," he said, his whisper harsh, his smile thin and humourless, disappearing into the frown-carved grooves of his face, "I have learned some things about our enemies and also those who are supposedly closest to us. This information is not something our superiors would want you to hear. Do you choose to hear it?" "Does it have anything to do with Babylon 5 and the Shadows?" Garth asked. "Everything in the worlds." Garth exchanged a swift look with Diamond; she nodded. "Tell on." Bester did, in a low monotone relating the story of the ship of telepaths and the intended use of them by the Shadows. At the last, he told them how he had found Carolyn. Garth and Diamond looked at one another, not missing the implications. Bester's eyes were bleak as space and he lifted his mug to his mouth several times, forgetting he'd finished the coffee. Diamond unobtrusively took it from him and went to refill it. The image of the cell, of Bester himself and Carolyn's flowing hair, filled her thoughts. Bester looked at her with no expression in his eyes. "I'm sorry," Diamond managed to say. "I've no call to judge you." "But you do; you are a Psicop." His smile was thin and stretched, looking at her as another adult, not a teenager at all. "Look, then." His barriers lowered and he met her gaze unblinkingly. Diamond took a deep breath and accepted the invitation. She looked into Alfred Bester's deeper psyche. It was a rocky path; ambition and pride and loneliness, accepting that last as the necessary price. Then the shock of seeing Carolyn Sanderson, of realising her own human response to him and his to her. Understanding what the feelings were, at last, so unfamiliar to him in all his years of life. "She loves you," Diamond whispered. "Loved. Maybe." "No, she loves you now. I got that quite clearly; seeing through your thoughts when she recognised you." Bester's look was suddenly one of hope. "Alfred," Garth said quietly and Diamond thought dazedly that she'd never ever heard someone call Bester by his first name before except in his own memories of Carolyn. "We hear what you say but we don't know why you say it. All of us have . . . links to Babylon 5, but I don't believe you knew that. Did you?" He's actually going to tell, Diamond thought, panicked, but there was nothing in Bester's face to indicate outrage as Garth told him a condensed version of his own story, not mentioning hers. Good. Bester didn't even seem surprised by what Garth said of the Shadows and that was even scarier. All he said was, "I need someone to go back to the station, to get the whole story on the technology used on Carolyn and the others. I couldn't scan them. I was told only what Sheridan and the others wanted me to know." "How could they block you?" "Minbari telepaths. Ambassador Delenn's doing. If you have helped them before, they may look more kindly upon you." "Not that kindly," Garth said. "We'll try, that's all we can promise." "More coffee?" Diamond asked into the quiet, but it was an easier quiet than before, almost the calm silence among friends. Why had Bester offered this? Gratitude? That didn't sound quite right. An answering trust, perhaps, the beginnings of friendship, which Alfred Bester had never considered. Certainly he would expect a full story from Garth at some point. Bester shook his head, making a grimace. "I will not sleep all night as it is." They accompanied him to the door. Garth patted Bester's shoulder, another first, and Diamond surprised herself by giving the chief Psicop a quick hug. Bester stared almost dazedly at her and then turned to go without saying any more. She and Garth looked at each other once more. "Maybe you're right," Garth said softly. "He is a lot better when you like him." "I didn't say _that_ out loud." "Sorry. You didn't have to. Is it too early to start breakfast?" "Not if you prepare it." Garth laughed and conceded defeat. "Next time why don't you stay over?" Diamond asked, when the pancakes were on their plates at last. "I'd like you to. It's not anything serious." Garth looked at her thoughtfully. "Because it would matter." She felt a strange chill down her spine, meeting that look. "I've never liked the Psi Corps attitude about relationships. Marriage doesn't mean anything to them, not really, it's just so they can order their stud-book. So long as there are no children they didn't order . . . " He hesitated and Diamond knew they were both thinking about Sanderson and wondering. "I'm sorry," Diamond said, feeling half angry as well. She wanted to tell him she cared about him but if she'd ever known the words, they were gone now. She felt like a stupid child. Garth pushed his chair back, came and knelt by her, though he didn't touch her. "Diamond, you're the same age I was when Psi Corps found me; I was going to say caught me, but I wasn't hiding. I was latent for longer than usual and we did move a lot, but when the Psicops came to our door I went quietly. Later, well, I did give them some trouble until they let me see my family regularly. You can ask Bester about that; he was born into the Corps and he'd already been a Psicop for some years at the time. The way Psi Corps handles things like partnerships and marriages, that isn't the world, Diamond. I care. Because I do things slowly, don't ever think I don't care about you." "I'm an idiot," Diamond sighed, "but I'm still going to eat this before it gets cold, since you cook better than I do, and after this, I may be stuck with the cafeteria till I get grey hairs." Garth got to his feet and back in his chair. "Oh, I wouldn't do that to you, but this may be your last chance to see me kneel at your feet. Floor's too damned hard to do that on a regular basis. Besides," he added, "we will soon be on Babylon 5 and it could get embarrassing." "You think soon?" Diamond asked, intensely relieved to be off that other subject. Garth nodded. She thought about Dena and the others in the facility and thought she just might understand Bester's anguish at not being able to help Carolyn . . . until it was all but too late. Babylon 5 was the front line of a war she could barely imagine. "I could barely keep him from knowing, but there's no way I would have refused this assignment. Aline - you saw her on the com screen once - already called me." End of part 4 From: Sue Isle Subject: The Front Line 5/8 Date: Sun, 13 Jul 1997 10:34:24 +0800 (WST) Usual disclaimer: this is a B5 story written for fun and not intended to breach any copyright associated with the Tv production _Babylon 5_. This section takes place around the time of _Shadow Dancing_; that harried time when B5 is filling with refugees, Rangers and all those telepaths who managed to avoid the clutches of Psi Corps. Sue ____________________________________________________________ THE FRONT LINE Part 5 by Sue Isle Babylon 5 was a metal world full of alien scents and visions. Crowds of beings pushed their way through the Customs area, calling and chirping and growling their incomprehensible speech. At first, Diamond couldn't see any differences from her last visit years before and then she did. There were more security, many of them Narn, and the faces, where she could read expression at all, were grim and tense. It felt wrong now, not to be in the black uniform. She stuck close to Garth, who'd be harder for anyone to knock over, but even so, it was unnerving, not having the automatic space and respect granted to a Psicop. She wasn't sure if she liked undercover work or not. "Shields," Garth reminded her, over the mental buzzing of all those untelepathic minds. "I _am_." "Well, I can read you." She didn't get a chance to retort, for someone was clearly coming towards them now. Diamond had never seen anybody like him. He was dressed like a fantasy character, complete with cloak and bright brooch fastening it. Dark shoulder-length hair framed a face equally out of fantasy, the features of a prince or an elf or a crazy. "Marcus!" Garth said, grinning, and the stranger came straight for him and caught him in a hug. "Marcus, this is Diamond." The stranger turned about, still with a hand on Garth's shoulder, to greet her. "She's much better looking than you are, you know," he murmured to Garth in a confidential tone. Then he smiled. "I'm glad you made it." Diamond looked back at him, not sure she trusted somebody quite that smooth and good- looking, as well as a crisp, beautiful voice straight out of her dreams. If he tried to hug her, she thought she might zap him. Marcus, however, was leading the way out, talking quickly and amiably to Garth about a variety of topics that made little sense to Diamond. She was weary from the journey, unsettled in this crowd and wanted only to get somewhere quiet to rest and think things over. "I expected to see Aline. Is she here?" Garth asked when Marcus paused for breath. "No, she's on Minbar. With all the chaos going on, she hasn't been able to get on a ship yet. You've been assigned the quarters she's never bothered to use and now you're here, you can take over watering all those little trees." "Aline told me about the recruiting of telepaths." "The Corps has no jurisdiction here any more . . . " "You know Aline would not have called us here for that. We're here to help." "I know. All the same, be careful. Don't talk too much to people about being a Psicop." "We both are." "Oh." Marcus tried not to stare at Diamond. "Things have become rather more tense since you were last here. I'm sure Captain Sheridan will explain it properly when you meet with him, but he doesn't have a lot of spare time. Here we are." He led the way into a small but fairly comfortable apartment. The furniture was sparse but it would do, Diamond thought. All she wanted was a flat surface to lie down on. She went into the bedroom while Garth and Marcus chatted in the living area. Marcus meant well, she supposed, but he was a normal. She wasn't used to them any more, to the need to babble aloud so much. This station wasn't going to be easy, with only a few telepaths about. She came to the doorway to get her bag and take it into the room, disconcerted to find them both watching her. "How about dinner tonight?" Marcus asked, looking from her to Garth. "I'd better fill you in as much as I can, since it could be a while before you can see Sheridan." "When's tonight?" "Ah - in about six hours?" He was all right, Diamond decided; his face wasn't exactly something he could help. She nodded. "All right." Marcus smiled and took his leave. Garth came into the bedroom while she was undressing and sat down on the bed, yawning. "I'm too dependent on telepathy, I think. Having to listen to out-loud information does get tiring." Diamond had to laugh at hearing an echo of her own thoughts. "We're too used to people like Alfred assuming we already know." "No, _he_ already knows and we should just have faith in that," Garth corrected, with a grin and a brief telepathic send. _Be careful what you say about Bester. He's not popular here at all and they may distrust anyone who's familiar enough with him to call him Alfred!_ "What about Carolyn? We should see her soon." "I want to clear that with Captain Sheridan first. We'd better stay onside." Diamond groaned and flopped backwards on the bed. "Well, I need some rest before we go out anyway. I didn't sleep at all on that ship. Are you coming to bed or do I have to clear that with the captain as well?" "That could be worth hearing - the second half," Garth said thoughtfully, adding, "Oof!" as she hit him in the stomach. "Much lower and the question would be academic . . . do you have _any_ romance in your soul?" "Probably not a lot," Diamond admitted. Garth chuckled, settling down to wrap his arms about her. His barriers were all over the place too, Diamond decided, as she turned about to face him. When telepaths made love, it was as though the barriers blended and you sort of merged into each other. "Like jellies," she murmured aloud and Garth made a sound halfway between a groan and a laugh. "We won't get anywhere if you keep saying things like that." Somehow they managed. "Oh hell," Diamond muttered upon waking, while Garth still snoozed nearby. "I forgot." For though she'd brought implants with her, she'd forgotten all about injecting one. Pregnancy here and now was going to be a pain everywhere! Maybe the doctor would have some morning-after pills on tap, so to speak. She nudged Garth and he muttered something, not moving. "I'm going out for a bit; I want to get something from Dr Franklin." Lying never worked, vagueness sometimes did. It still wanted an hour and a half to their meeting time with Marcus; she could slip out and attend to this, then wake Garth up properly when she got back. "Deja vu," Franklin said. He obviously had no trouble at all recalling her and his look was not friendly. "How'd you get back on board?" "Invitation, believe it or not," Diamond said wearily. "Headache again?" "No, forgot my implant. Do you have any morning- afters?" Franklin stared. "You're how old?" "Eighteen about three weeks ago. Do you?" Still not taking his gaze from her, the doctor crossed the Medlab and then briefly looked into a drawer and brought out a jar. Slowly he poured a glass of water and handed it to her, together with a pill. "Thanks," Diamond said, a little rattled. He'd had longer practising to be rude than she had, but she'd give him a run any day. "Uh, can you tell me . . . " He wouldn't tell her the time if he could help it. She gave up. "I wondered if Carolyn Sanderson was still here. Mr Bester's worried." "What a shame." "Your bedside manner really stinks, you know that?" "So I'm told." Diamond openly grinned and Stephen Franklin abruptly realised possible interpretations of his words. He groaned softly. "All right! We're working on the apparatus - I see you know what I mean. She's kept sedated most of the time; we couldn't control her if she did completely wake, but I think we're going to have to put her back in freeze with the others." "Garth and I could help." "Who's Garth?" "Garth Kalder. He was here last year and he's here with me now, another Psicop." "Ah yes, now I remember. Great." "If you need her awake to run any tests, we can keep her under control." "I should hope so. That's what you're for, isn't it?" "That's right. Thanks for the pill." Diamond walked out of Medlab, trying to calm her breathing. Back in quarters, Garth was awake and getting dressed, still yawning. "Where were you?" "Medlab. I told you I had to go get a morning-after. Franklin thinks he might need us if he's to let Carolyn Sanderson wake properly." "Fine. Shall we go find out what's happening around here?" "Yes. Do you know why the doctor was wearing a new uniform?" It had only just struck her, the smart unfamiliarity of the black uniform varigated by white lines on the tunic, clearly military but of no service she recognised. "Tell you at dinner." end part 5 --------------- MESSAGE b5-creative.v001.n449.2 --------------- From: Sue Isle Subject: The Front Line 6/8 Date: Sun, 13 Jul 1997 10:35:02 +0800 (WST) MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; charset=US-ASCII Usual disclaimer: this is a B5 story written for fun and not intended to breach any copyright associated with the Tv production _Babylon 5_. SPOILERS FOR UP TO EPIPHANIES Sue ____________________________________________________________ THE FRONT LINE Part 6 by Sue Isle Going out in clothes other than the Psicop uniform felt like wearing her pyjamas in public. The back of Diamond's neck prickled as she sat in the elegant restaurant, with windows showing space and ships and stars around them. Maybe it was meant to be inspiring, but she just felt nervous. She tried to pay attention to what Marcus was saying, rather than trying to get it all from his thoughts in one swift grab. It would be so easy. Through the press of tables, she recognised Captain Sheridan. He was not looking at them, but she felt sure he was aware of their presence. His dinner companion was the strange-looking Minbari ambassador, Delenn. Delenn who had brought the Minbari Fleet over the station and threatened Earthforce. Marcus had related her words with obvious glee. "And then she said, "There is only one man who has defeated the Minbari fleet" or something like that. "He is behind me. You are in front of me. Be somewhere else!"" Garth laughed. "And were they?" "In an instant." He went on with the story, but Diamond was not listening. She was 'listening' to the hum of tension around them, the invisible psychic net of thoughts generated by each person in the big room. It had been building three years ago, when she'd first come here; now it was almost painful. She glanced back at Delenn and saw the Minbari watching her, not hostile, but curious. _You and me both_, Diamond thought; she wasn't at all used to aliens, especially aliens who hovered somewhere between two natures. There was no one else present whom she recognised. She leaned back, pondering the sense of destiny in this place, in this time. All of them waiting, all of them drawn. "Diamond?" asked Garth. "I'm all right. I'd like to go for a walk," she said. "I'll see you back at the room, all right?" "All right," Garth said, but he sent. _Is something bothering you?_ _No, I just need some time_. Diamond nodded to Marcus, slid off her chair and walked away, feeling their stares prickling her back. Garth wasn't himself in this place; he was too trusting, to talk like this with a normal. She just walked, with no particular destination in mind, yet somehow ended up back at the Medlab. Franklin was, for a wonder, not there and the duty doctor was busy with a patient as Diamond came in. Very quietly she moved through the big, high-tech space, where illness almost seemed not to be present, so clean and sterile was it. It was easy to track the other telepath, even though the powerful mind slept. Carolyn Sanderson lay in a bed at the end of Medlab, curtained away from casual sight. The powerful drugs held her in sleep, her face calm, characterless. There was nothing of the joy which had been in her when she saw Bester, very little of that person there at all. "Oh," Diamond whispered. "I'm sorry." She hardly knew why she spoke; Carolyn could not hear her and there was no one else who would understand. "So am I," said Stephen Franklin behind her. He grimaced slightly, but didn't seem angry or surprised. "We keep trying to clear out of her system . . . whatever they did to her, but it's more than just electrodes in her head. They're part of her life force; every time we try to operate, to get them out of her, she starts to go into cardiac arrest. It's not just her strength as a telepath - if that was all, Bester himself could have controlled her while we operated." "He didn't know what to do," Diamond said. "He came to us because he had to talk to someone. We shouldn't officially know anything, Garth and I." "Yeah. I've been there.. Hard to think of Bester needing anything from anyone, though." "He did." "Oh, I'm not doubting you. The idea is just very strange." Diamond nodded, sensing his sincerity. Somewhere along the line, perhaps only a few moments ago, Franklin had forgiven her for that old deception; she and Scott Renier spying for Psi Corps on this station, just a couple of kids who'd forgotten or never learned to be children. After a few moments of silence, Franklin asked, "That why you're here? He sent you to check up, didn't he?" Diamond hesitated. Garth still had not told her what his mysterious summons had been about, from the woman she'd seen only on a screen, one of the equally mysterious Rangers. "Thought so," Franklin said a heartbeat later, reading her silence as assent. "Well, I can't tell you anything I didn't tell him, though Bester's not likely to believe that. Where's your friend?" "Still at dinner, talking to Marcus." "And you don't appreciate Marcus?" Franklin grinned for the first time. "He's all right," Diamond said warily. "But he's Garth's friend, not mine." Derogatory comments about normals, she thought, would _not_ be welcomed! "Just as well. He's in a permanent state of pining after Commander Ivanova." Diamond started, glanced at him apologetically, but of course the doctor had not even noticed. Franklin took a step closer, but it was to look at the readout over Sanderson's head. He shook his head slightly. "Do you get anything from her?" "I can't deepscan her . . . " "Don't give me that. We need anything we can get." Doctor's direction, Diamond decided, would have to qualify as a necessary order. She couldn't get line of sight, since Sanderson's eyes were closed, so contact was necessary. She peeled off a black glove and cautiously laid her hand against the sleeping woman's wrist. Five seconds later, Franklin was picking her up from the floor. Diamond blinked, trying to clear her eyes. "Like an electric shock," she muttered. "Really bad. She's not going to let me in; she doesn't know me and she doesn't trust me." "Would she trust Garth?" "I don't think so." Diamond stared at the sleeper. Franklin privately thought she looked nothing like a teenager. All those minds she'd walked through; that had to age a person beyond the physical years. Not the face or the way of moving, just the eyes, the way she looked at you, considering your every molecule. "There's no more I can do," she said at last. "I think I'll head back to quarters and get some rest." Anyone else, Franklin thought he might have asked out for a drink or two, but not her and not because she was a touch young for him. Psi Corps owned her. The station was gearing towards war. Garth needed no mindreading to know that, even had Marcus not briefed him. It was with considerable foreboding stocked up in his mind that he let himself back into their quarters. Diamond was in bed but not asleep. She murmured a greeting and then said, "We won't be able to get near Sanderson's mind. If Bester couldn't, we have no chance." "You've been to Medlab." "I had to do something." "I know. But Alfred didn't ask us to fix it, only to be sure he got the whole story." "I think he did." In the pitch-black 'morning', Diamond was the first to rouse and order lights-up. When Garth roused, he found a cup of coffee being held under his nose. "Thanks, I think." He yawned into it, struggled up and after putting half of it down, decided he was awake and drank the rest more slowly. "I went for a walk," Diamond said. "This place feels like a bomb about to go off." "What a comforting thought." "And if the general population of this station knew we were Psicops, they'd kill us." To that Garth could only nod, not speak. "So why?" Diamond asked and now she sounded like her real age. "What's really going on? Why did Marcus want to talk to you? I mean - no reason he wouldn't want to anyway, I guess - but it seemed like more than that." "Yes. What is going on is something beyond the Corps, to remind the Corps of what it should be." "That sounds like Alfred." "It is, partly." "Is he coming here?" Garth nodded. Diamond got off the bed and brushed down her slacks. "So you'd better start telling me the whole of it and not keep me in the dark like some kid." "What you don't know can't be reamed out of your mind," he said mildly. "All right. We aren't the only telepaths here by a long, long shot, and I do not mean Carolyn Sanderson and co in the freeze boxes. My friend Aline, who's with the Rangers, called me here and Marcus had to fill me in on the details. Now, Bester doesn't know about Aline's plan." "Which is?" Diamond controlled an urge to jump up and down, which would not impress him with her maturity in the least. Garth hesitated and in that pause, she read her answer. "The prison," she said. "The other telepaths - they're the ones the Corps never captured?" Garth nodded reluctantly. "And now they protect us all," he said. "They're being sent out to other worlds to protect them against the Shadows - don't ask me just why and how, because I can't tell you. But there's problems with those telepaths, at least the humans. Many of them are only half-trained or not trained at all, their powers are scattered and dangerous. The Rangers can't do anything about that and nor can the station command here and the Corps won't." "You're here to train them," Diamond finished. "As though they were Corps. Garth, if they catch us, our brains are going to be mush." Another thought occurred to her and she said, "You said Bester doesn't know about the training. Are we going to tell him when he gets here?" "Not right away." He looked at her quietly for a few heartbeats and finished his coffee. "Does that scare you? It should, or else you haven't been paying attention to what's been going on around you in the Corps. But you don't need to worry too much. You haven't been in on the planning and you haven't done anything at all yet." That, Diamond thought, was a pretty bleak assessment of her past five years with Psi Corps; the rigorous training and the assignment on Mars, then coming here to Babylon 5 where she'd seen Carolyn and failed to help her, despite all the Corps had taught. Garth was right. She hadn't done anything at all. She raised her chin and stared defiantly back at him. "All right, so I haven't done anything yet, but I'm ready to start. You said I was supposed to start working with the telepathic kids, back on Mars. There are kids among these rogues, aren't there?" "That's right." Finally Garth smiled. "Marcus will introduce us." End part 6 --------------- MESSAGE b5-creative.v001.n449.3 --------------- From: Sue Isle Subject: The Front Line 7/8 Date: Sun, 13 Jul 1997 10:35:36 +0800 (WST) MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; charset=US-ASCII Usual disclaimer: this is a B5 story written for fun and not intended to breach any copyright associated with the Tv production Babylon 5. This section is set around the events of _Z'ha'Dum_ and _Hour of the Wolf_ Sue THE FRONT LINE Part 7 by Sue Isle Downbelow made Diamond think of a disused factory, shadowy and primitive, smelling of metal and chemicals and human sweat. It was nowhere she would have wanted to live or even liked to visit, but it was to its depths that Marcus Cole brought her and Garth, twelve hours later in Babylon 5's arbitrary night. "Good night," he said cheerfully and promptly disappeared. Garth took a step after him, then halted as other forms came out from behind stacks of machinery or partitions or simply the darkness. They emerged far enough for the two Psicops to see them and then halted. "Greetings, Psi Corps," said a woman's voice. Diamond could not tell any more about her than that. "And to you," Garth answered. "Did Aline Lorell speak to you?" "She said we could trust you." A faint chuckle ran around the assembled group. "Trust and Psi Corps in one sentence is very unusual." "This isn't all of you, is it?" "Of course not. We're the volunteers." Eleven, maybe twelve, Diamond thought, though she couldn't be sure without scanning. Her psi sense strove to uncoil, desperate to know, but she kept it in check. "All right. How many of you have had Corps training?" "I have," the woman said. "Maybe a year. The rest have had a little, except for three who were hidden as children. They're now about the age of the girl there." "My name is Garth, this is Diamond. Will you let us see you?" No one moved, not even the speaker. Something was strange here, Diamond thought, beyond the situation itself. It centered on the woman. All the others were concentrating on her, she could feel the buzz of their psi attention. One or two of them were very strong, but not like . . . "Who?" she blurted, taking another step towards the woman. Light flared, a torch in a boy's hand. Lyta Alexander's bright hair gleamed and she smiled slightly at Diamond. "Well done." And to Garth, "You didn't think I'd just let you walk in here and take them, did you?" "That was not our intent." Lyta nodded, her face calm now. "I know, but I had to be sure." "You are P5," Garth said, but his tone was one of disbelief. Again Lyta smiled. Around them, the rogue telepaths moved into the light of the torch. Ragged, dirty, their faces wary, they were an unlikely collection. Diamond picked out the three teenagers, who'd no doubt been told that the Corps ate babies from the time they could understand. Lyta beckoned someone forward, a woman with cropped dark hair and an expression which made Diamond want to run. "This is Shari." "Lyta spoke for me, just then," Shari said. She had a low, smoky voice that held about as much warmth as the outside of the station's hull. Perhaps she was thirty, perhaps forty, impossible to gauge without scanning her. "And now I'll speak for the rest of us, Psi Corps. You'll have to let us deep scan you, or P12s or not, you won't leave this room alive." Diamond stared through the murky light at her, striving for eye contact, but Shari's gaze shifted ceaselessly. A deep scan was more than checking for truth told, it was a psychic rape whose scars would not soon fade. These ragged fugitives would know everything about them. Her cowardice, the fact she'd never done anything worth doing and had let the Corps take her. "Are you able to do it?" Garth asked. Diamond stared at him, unable to believe the easy calm in his voice as he stood, hands at his sides. He sounded as though he and Shari were having a casual chat somewhere, with no ring of witnesses waiting to destroy him if he made a wrong move. The back of her neck prickled; she wanted to sweep about, to make sure no one was sneaking up on her, but knew these people were waiting for her to do just that. "I am," Shari said, her voice dropping to a dry scraping of words. "And Lyta will help me. If you don't block us, we can manage it. Well, Psi Corps, what do you say?" For answer, Garth's shields vanished. Diamond could sense it, standing so close to him, but then Shari's dead snake gaze flickered to her. "Now you," she said. Diamond couldn't move for a moment, even her mind felt frozen, but then she felt the warmth of Garth's hand brushing hers. No telepathic caress, only the comfort of flesh against the loneliness. She made herself breathe in deeply and with the outgoing breath, dropped her barriers. The rush of voices and chatter was like an assault. She was ringed by voices echoing, penetrating her very mind and knocking from the inside. Diamond's next breath was jagged, she barely felt Garth's hand around hers. "Hold still," he said, his voice warring with the mental rush of dry leaves whirling about her head. She was thrown into darkness then, seeing nothing, trapped in her own head as though she was a normal. Heat flared behind her eyes and there was pain, a lightning-swift headache as though she'd been struck, a spear-thrust of agony deep between her eyes. Her own breath was loud as a storm, searing the inside of her mind as she breathed. Abruptly the pain stopped, leaving in its wake a terrible weakness which made Diamond stumble and nearly fall. There was a dry coughing sound beside her; Garth, bent over, trying to find something to hang on to. Before them, the cool, watchful stare of Lyta and beside her, Shari. "Well, it seems you've told the truth, Psi Corps," Shari commented. "How long do you think you can keep it from Alfred Bester if and when he shows up?" "As long as necessary," Garth said, straightening up with care. "He's not looking for anything like this, he won't bother to scan." "You had best be very sure," Lyta came in. The discovery that Garth and Diamond were genuine had not won her friendship or made her relax her guard one iota. "There is not much time," Garth said, speaking to Shari, but glancing at the others gathered about her, like pack wolves waiting for the leader to finish making her decision. "If you want any sort of training we must start soon. I suggest splitting up, for greater efficiency. Anyone younger than twenty five, step to the right." He looked at the result. "That's about even, I'd say. Some of you show Diamond another area where you can train; it had better be at least 100 yards away from where we are now. We'll work for an hour tonight, just to get an idea of your skills and needs." Diamond found five of the silent telepaths looking at her, not hostile, but nervous and expectant. "Uh, where can we go?" "This way," one of them murmured and led the way out. She managed, just, not to look back at Garth. Three nights later, both she and Garth were quite short of sleep, but their "cadres" as Garth called them, had at least a basic idea of how to manage their skills. Garth had assessed those who did not know their ratings - Shari, who did, was P11 - and placed two at around P9 or 10 and the others, including all of Diamond's class, between P3 and P7. They concentrated with a fierce intensity which unnerved her, completely indifferent to the fact that they were learning from a teenager. They had lost world and family and scrabbled for enough to eat and a place to sleep, yet still they were willing to defend Earth's people and all the others in danger. Ships from all the known worlds were assembling around them, over the days while the telepaths worked in the bowels of Babylon 5. Diamond, when she had the chance, stared out of the viewports in longing at the magnificent alien craft. "I wish we were going with the ships." "No you don't," Garth corrected. "They _need_ telepaths." "So does the station. What do you think's preventing a direct attack on Babylon 5? Both our foes - Vorlon and Shadow - _know_ that this place is the nexus of all the races in the galaxy." He gave her a wry, impatient look as they sat at breakfast in a civilian cafeteria, conversations and rattling of cutlery going on all about them. "Not to mention our other little job. The Corps may be far away, but you're still my intern. Think a little." "I guess I'd rather be a moving target." "Go with the Fleet and you'd be a target all right. I'm sure the Shadows are working on a way to zap telepaths. You studied five years to get to the point where you were allowed beyond Psi Corps walls, and these people are going to get a couple of months at the outside." Garth shook his head. "Targets." A few nights later, Diamond went to talk to Stephen Franklin. She checked Carolyn's area, but found it empty. Turning, she saw the doctor a few steps behind her, a look on his face which told her what had happened. "We had to put her back in freeze," Franklin said. "I was no closer to figuring out that damned alien mess she's got inside her." Diamond nodded; she'd expected as much. "Doctor, do you . . . " "Call me Stephen! I like remembering I've got a first name sometimes." "Stephen," Diamond said warily, not sure whether she was being honoured or not. "Do you know if the Captain will have time to talk to us any time soon? I think Garth would like to know . . . " "Him and the whole station," Franklin said, with such a bite in his voice that Diamond took a step backwards, glad with every cell in her body that he wasn't a telepath. "Sheridan went to Z'ha'Dum and . . . and he hasn't come back." "But the war . . . " "Goes on. You train those people, make sure they learn fast. They may be our last hope." From this news, Diamond emerged the next morning, very late after a night spent with her class. It had been a frustrating, headache-producing session for all of them. She was finding that while she might know how to do a given thing, explaining it was quite something else, even telepathically. Her students hadn't learned psi exercises from their early teens as she had and they were unconsciously resistant. She walked into the Zocalo, intent on breakfast, and found a huge, raucous and incomprehensible party. A man she didn't know grabbed her and whirled her in dance steps, shouting, "He's back, the captain's back - he's alive!" Garth located her among the mass of delighted, shrieking strangers, whose buzz of minds was nearly overwhelming her shields. Diamond had never encountered this sort of reaction before, the resurgence of heart and courage and hope sparked by the arrival of just one person. She had never loved her leaders. They had simply been there and been stronger. Now, standing among the throng of Babylon 5's people, looking up at Captain Sheridan on his dais, his arm around Delenn of Minbar, she began to understand something of that power. Shari came up beside her and Garth, looking also at Sheridan and Delenn. "We don't have much time, Psi Corps," she said in her dry leaves voice. "He won't want to waste this." "It won't be wasted," Garth said. "And you'll be ready." End part 7 --------------- MESSAGE b5-creative.v001.n449.4 --------------- From: Sue Isle Subject: The Front Line 8/8 Date: Sun, 13 Jul 1997 10:36:22 +0800 (WST) MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; charset=US-ASCII Usual disclaimer: this is a B5 story written for fun and not intended to breach any copyright associated with the Tv production _Babylon 5_. Set around _Into the Fire_ and _Epiphanies. Sue ____________________________________________________________ THE FRONT LINE Part 8 by Sue Isle The Babylon Fleet was moving at last. No greater assemblage of spacecraft had ever happened, and perhaps never would again. There was a pride born of desperation in even the humblest craft as it prepared to join the others in the jump to deep space. The rest of the telepaths which Garth and Diamond had trained had gone to their ships, leaving their teachers behind, much to Diamond's agitation. She knew how little _they_ knew, how stupid it was that they should all go out there and she stay behind. Garth's hand was on her shoulder as he stood by, also watching. "We have to protect this place or what's out there means nothing," he said gently. "Shari's the best of them," Diamond said. "But you know how when she gets scared - really stressed - her talent can switch off on her?" He ruefully and silently assented. "Mine did that for two years - they put me through these gruesome tests for at least that long to cure me of it. Towards the end, they were using scenarios that would've killed me if I _hadn't_ been able to maintain the power. You can't put her through those tests without the Corps facilities and a mob of other high-psis, can you? And what about Jedri? He panics and drops his shields like a puppy rolling over. It should be Psi Corps doing what they're doing." She felt traitorous, saying that, and even worse when he didn't instantly deny it. "I'm sorry," she whispered to those bright ships. It was Stephen Franklin who found her at that window, many hours later, slumped in a half-doze. He paused, giving her the mercy of a few more moments ignorance, then quietly tapped her shoulder. Diamond started awake, looked outside at once but saw only empty space beyond Babylon 5. "It's over," he said gently. "Over? But they only just . . . " Diamond shook her head, confused. A great space war didn't just finish in a few hours - days? Battle of the Line? Garth's voice asked inside her head. You should pay attention to your history. She expected a swift and barbed response from Franklin at her dullness, but he only patted her arm, terrifyingly kind. "It has. You'll learn the whole story when the fleet makes it back, but right now I have some other news for you. Your people were very brave. Two of them were aboard a ship that blocked an enemy's path. It was firing on Captain Sheridan's ship." "You mean they're dead?" Her voice snapped back harsh and ugly, but Franklin didn't react. "Yes," he said. Diamond turned back to look at space. "I knew others must have died, the ones who've been going to the ships and onworld sites over the last weeks and months. Nobody could get back here to tell us, I guess nobody knew we needed to know, but we knew they died." She looked at him. "They died because Psi Corps wouldn't." "You think all the Corps is like that?" "No. Not all of them, but some. They hate normals, normals hate them." She shrugged. "And it's the 'blips', the ones who wouldn't join, who end up heroes. And dead. Do - do they know the names?" "Shari," said Franklin, "and Jedri." He waited for her to cry, but she remained still and tearless, looking at nothing. Later it would happen. "I'm going to have a lot of work on my hands when those ships come back," the doctor added. "I could use your help." "Okay. Garth . . . " "He's waiting for us there. Come on." * * * Alfred Bester's obsession brought him again to Babylon 5 and to Z'ha'Dum, where he saw a planet destroy itself before his eyes. One didn't need to be a telepath to pick up that news buzzing about the station, not when everybody was quite willing to tell you. Garth and Diamond came up from the depths of Downbelow and their latest class; the survivors of the War, who were now calling themselves the Shadow Corps. "It's probably better if we don't talk to Alfred before he leaves," Garth said as they got into a lift. "If there's any time he'd scan one of us, it'll be when he gets in." "He's going to be in a mood to break heads, not scan inside them." "That too." "Garth, we have to tell him," Diamond said abruptly. "Else he'll never trust us again. Either we trust him or we don't, there's nothing else. I'm going to see him off. Whether you do or not is up to you!" * * * Diamond stood waiting. She did not go into the room where Carolyn, with all the others who had been shadow- engineered, now lay in frozen sleep. Partly that was a certain creepy feeling about doing so, partly was the knowledge that Bester would not want it. His shields were all but gone, his grief roiling about the area so strongly that she felt she was eavesdropping anyway. The guard glanced suspiciously at her when he went past to tell Bester it was time to board. That stocky black-clad figure came out, face quite calm now. Dark eyes glanced almost indifferently at Diamond and then away, as though he had made up his future and did not see her there. "Alfred!" Garth appeared, walking fast. Zack Allan wasn't far behind him and didn't look happy. "Please," Garth said, turning about before he'd quite reached Bester, "can we have a few minutes?" "Five," Zack said. "And I'll be counting." He strode away down the corridor. "There is not much time," Bester said to Garth, his precise voice carrying clearly. He was edgy and suspicious, even without a telepath's abilities to survey him. _We have some things to tell you_, Garth replied. Bester nodded, but his face did not lose its grimness. Bleak and cold, his shields surrounded him. Diamond abruptly remembered her first encounter with him, when he'd tested her powers and told her she'd be a Psicop. He'd set her apart in the darkness and the chill, then held out his hand to her and told her the Corps would be there for her. He had not lied. He had never lied to her. She told him so, meeting that flat black gaze. _Trust for you_ she said, and before she could lose her courage, that courage which the desperates hidden below had taught her, she sent to Bester what she'd hidden of her first visit to Babylon 5. Her knowledge of his attempt to destroy the rebels' network; her own agreement to help Babylon 5 and keep that knowledge from him. _That is not quite all_, Garth followed her. _Alfred, we've been with those rebels. They volunteered to save worlds. The Rangers brought them, but only Psicops could teach them what they needed to know. They incite no fires. Only the Inquisition lit the flames_ "Both of you?" Bester asked, looking at Diamond. He was terrifyingly calm, his eyes dark pits in his face, yet he did not seem to realise that he was now speaking aloud, albeit softly. "Yes." "Have you been around Lyta Alexander?" Garth nodded to this apparent non sequitur. "She's been helping with the training, as she can. She persuaded the rogues to accept Diamond and me." Bester had not moved from where he stood. Now he lifted his hands and let them fall once again. "It must be my birthday. So what do you want me to do, Kalder? Kiss them all?" "I want you to understand." "You come to _me_ with this?" Bester's voice was quieter now, almost stunned. "Diamond, you tell me what you told . . . and you give me this? Don't you realise that I could recover all the telepaths hiding in Downbelow?" "What about Carolyn?" Diamond did her best to steady her own voice. "These fools can't help." "They died," Diamond said, losing her battle to keep calm. "The telepaths we trained, the _blips_, they volunteered to go with the Babylon Fleet against the Shadows and the Vorlons. Two of them were on the ship that protected Captain Sheridan's vessel, did you hear about that? They died helping normals." "And those deaths weren't wasted," Garth cut in before she could say anything more. "The people here know what the telepaths did, Minbari _and_ human. We can't help Carolyn yet, Alfred. But our war's not over, is it? Psi Corps is split into factions - some of them _aided_ the Shadows. What's help against them worth to you? If we train these telepaths, doesn't that bring them closer to the Corps - and normals more likely to accept us - without hatred?" "Hatred," Bester said thoughtfully. "I'm so used to it that I think I would miss it if it wasn't there." "Want to find out?" Garth pursued his point. "Our help for yours." "It would be interesting," Bester finally said. "And make my work easier." "If we are ourselves weapons," Garth said, very quietly. "Each to guard the others." Bester nodded, Diamond did, and all felt the press of darkness around them ease just a little as each soul realised it was not, in fact, completely alone. Bester took a breath. He didn't say what decision he had made, but Diamond saw it, reading the easing of the tension in his eyes, just a little. "You will be assigned together," he said. "It's unusual for an interning team to remain as a unit, but it happens. I may be able to return here at some point myself, I do not know yet, but I will put that recommendation through when I reach Mars." "If we can do anything for Carolyn, we will," Garth promised. "I know." Bester saw it coming and made a futile try to dodge, but Garth hugged him anyway. Diamond, grinning, moved in and joined the hug, one hand on Garth's back, the other a little shyly against Bester's shoulder, reaching up a little to place a kiss on his cheek. "Have a good trip, sir." "I think," Bester managed to get out, "that we are now beyond formalities." He was laughing, Diamond realised in wonder, laughing as he patted Garth on the back and after a moment thumped harder. "Garth, you are breaking my ribs!" Garth let him go at last and watched while Bester, still recovering his breath, hurried towards his waiting ship. THE END