From: Jakhel@aol.com Subject: Infinite Regres 1b: DoubleCross Ch. 5 of 8. Date: Sun, 3 Jan 1999 16:37:17 EST Finished this on New Year's Eve -- there is a preliminary version at the Infinite Regress Access Point, http://members.aol.com/irwebsite/. Not quite done editing, but readable if you pull it down to a text editor. * * * * INFINITE REGRESS 1B: DOUBLECROSS * * * * Timeframe: Mid-2264. Jake Sisko and Nog (from Deep Space 9) have picked up an unexpected passenger, and taken a slight wrong turn in the Wormhole. Looking for a way home, they end up on Babylon 5, where they run into a pair of young girls who may be able to help them. After discussing matters with Ambassador Cotto, they split up. The Babylon 5 characters, locations, etc. belong to J. Michael Straczynski and Warner Brothers. The Deep Space Nine characters and Star Trek technology belongs to Paramount and Viacom. The other stray bits are mine. E-mail any feedback to Jakhel@aol.com. This story will be issued one chapter per week, hopefully on Mondays. A preliminary version is archived at the Infinite Regress Access Point, http://members.aol.com/irwebsite/. Shameless Plug Dept: If you like Infinite Regress, Wandering Star, Rimstalker, and/or A Dark, Distorted Mirror, you'll LOVE the Virtual Sixth Season. If you like (i.e. are addicted to) writing fanfic, and are in serious B5 withdrawal, you should DEFINITELY consider helping us out with an episode or two. E-mail me for details! ALSO looking for writers to come up with chapters for a Due South/B5 crossover round-robin (I'm working on the first chapter in my copious (cough, hack) free time -- should be out Real Soon Now.) ****** Chapter 5. Jason followed Selene back to the transport tube, then out into the market area of Brown 37. It was pretty much what he'd expected -- wide corridors made narrow by stalls and stands put up by enterprising vendors, crowded with shoppers, loiterers, and the occasional sightseer. The air hung thick with the aromas of foodstuffs, spices, perfumes, candles, and sentients of several dozen species. Light from the fixtures placed intermittently (and working intermittently) along the ceiling was supplemented by lanterns and advertising devices of all kinds. The noise was deafening. "How are we gonna get out of here with all our stuff?" Jason yelled in Selene's ear as they eeled their way toward the largest and most popular produce stand. "WE won't, the girl yelled back. "We'll have it delivered -- it's included in the price, and it's worth it!" "I hear that!" "Good! It's kinda hard to have a conversation here!" Jason left it alone. Selene caught the attention of the draz in charge and handed him the shopping list. Jason looked on as the two began filling packing crates with lettuce, tomatoes, onions, and half a dozen things the Human boy had no name for. Those big pink beans -- or were they little cucumbers? -- looked interesting. Probably poisonous, he decided, as the draz took a bite out of one and held it out in his scaly hand to Selene for inspection. Jason was fascinated by this proximity to a real alien. Nog didn't really count -- even knowing better, Jason couldn't shake the feeling that Nog was just an ordinary (if obnoxious) kid in weird makeup. Someone jostled him. He hastily apologized and looked up into the masked countenance of a Gaim. Now, on the TV show, it had always been obvious that the Gaim were just people in bug-eyed, silvery suits. But up close like this, it was impossible to ignore the fact that the person inside the suit WAS a bug. A BIG bug. A...very...big...bug. The way it moved, the way it SMELLED -- Jason wondered how the heck that guy in the Season 5 opener had passed himself off as one. It wasn't so bad, really, Jason told himself. He LIKED bugs. Bugs were cool. ESPECIALLY big bugs. He thought of that humongo preying mantis that had flown right at his mom one soft summer night -- they'd watched her perch on a bush and watch THEM for a good half hour. And Ryan's mom's giant cockroaches (at the University, not in her kitchen!), and that gigantic African millipede at the San Jose Children's Museum -- he still remembered the slick feel of its exoskeleton, and its hundreds of tiny feet prickling over his arm.... The Gaim dropped a piece of fruit, and Jason automatically ducked to pick it up. "Here ya go," he said loudly, holding it up. Knobby gloved fingers plucked it out of his hand, and dark, bulbous eyes looked him over. The proboscis-like hose coming out of its lower face flexed. "Thank...you..." the creature's vocoder shrilled above the crowd. "You're welcome," the boy murmured, watching with a slightly dazed smile as the insect person paid for its treat and melted into the crowd. "You coming, or what?" Selene was pulling at his sleeve. "Um, yeah, sure, where to now?" Jason refocused. "Wherever. You want a tour of the REAL 23rd Century? The side you DON'T see in the vids?" "Sure! They did some pretty gritty stuff, tho..." She wasn't listening. He hurried to catch up. After more of Brown and Grey sectors than Jason really wanted to see, Selene led him up into more rarified territory -- they scooted past the council chamber, peeked briefly around the doorway into C&C, and found the Sanctuary empty. There they sat and watched the stars for a while. Selene was curious about Jason's life in the past -- living in a real house, with a real OUTSIDE yard, going to school with other kids instead of doing tutorials on the network, having cats, lizards, a toad...and a mom. "What about YOUR mom and dad?" Jason asked, curious in his own turn. "Mama died when I was little, back on Proxima 3. Then Dad and Trish and I came here. Dad...disappeared during the Shadow War. He just went out one day and never came back." "Bummer," Jason said sincerely. "Did you go to Security?" "Yeah. Trish can't stand those guys, but she went to them for that. They pretty much brushed her off, though. There was so much going on back then that they didn't have time to spare for some Downbelow lowlife. They figured he either ran off with some flash bit or got himself killed. Trish thinks so, too." "Do you?" "Ahh...I don't know. Sometimes I like to think of him out there, somewhere -- that he got involved with something and couldn't come back. He used to do that, you know -- get involved in all sorts of crazy schemes. Drove Trish nuts. And our moms, I guess. Sometimes...sometimes I get to thinking someday he'll come back for me. Kinda silly, huh?" Jason shook his head. "I don't think so." "Yeah, well, you're just a kid, what do you know?" With that, she got up and stalked out. "Not much, I guess," he decided, and followed. ****** A couple of customers wandered into the Dark Star during the next hour or so, but nothing Jake and Nog couldn't handle. In fact, they would have gotten bored, if they hadn't been so worried. Once they ran out of things to clean, Nog poured them each a reconstituted fruit juice and they settled at a nearby table. "You know," said the Ferengi, "it's bad enough being stuck a hundred years in the past, AND halfway across the quadrant from home, but what really bothers me is having to rely on these...these little KIDS for help." "Oh, come on," Jake protested. "Twelve-year-old girls are mentally the equivalent of adults -- at least that's what my mom used to say, and she ought to know. She WAS one, after all. Of course, she also said that when puberty hits they go through all sorts of weird changes..." "What, do they grow wings?" put in Nog snidely. "Not...exactly," Jake assured him. The Ferengi snorted. "But it does strange stuff to them psychologically, which they don't really come out the other side of until they're in their mid-twenties or so -- at least, that's what my mom said..." "...And she ought to know," Nog finished for him. He swiped at the bar absently. "My moogie never talked to ME about that kind of thing," he said, a bit plaintively. "Not 'suitable' for a Ferengi male, you understand. And what my Dad doesn't know about fe-males would fill -- this station, probably!" Jake smiled sympathetically at his friend. "Anyway," he said, "I think we're better off with these girls than if they WERE our age -- they'd probably be all squeally and giggly like the Haretta sisters." Both boys shuddered. "You're right," Nog agreed. "Females like THAT would be no use to us at all in this situation. Although I can think of some other situations where they'd be MUCH more useful..." "Oh, yeah, right," sniped Jake. "Like you'd have the first idea what to DO in...THAT kind of situation! Besides, that kid Jason is all right." Nog looked at him funny. "Just how do you mean that, exactly?" "What?" "Never mind." "ANyway, between the girls knowing this station like the backs of their hands, and Jason knowing so much about this universe AND ours, we're almost better off than if we were dealing with adults...and besides, now we have the Centauri Ambassador on our side. That's like...like having Ambassador Spock of Vulcan on our side!" Nog looked at him, speechless, for a long moment. "Well, maybe not EXACTLY like that," Jason admitted grudgingly. The Ferengi snorted, and scanned the room reflexively. A group of customers -- mixed humanoids, mostly male, had entered and were pulling together several tables. Nog started to rise to go wait on them, but stopped, looked closer, and sat back down. "Jake," he whispered urgently, "you go. Get them whatever they want." "Huh? What? Why?" "Just DO IT," he hissed. "Trust me. You can handle it." Jake gave him a questioning look, but went on over. They mainly wanted beer, with one drink that sounded exotic but ended up coming straight out of a can in the fridge. Soon enough, the young Human made it back to his table. "What was that all about? You don't want to work all of a sudden?" "No, you idiot, I was listening." The Ferengi flicked his oversized ear. "I knew there was something familiar-looking about those men, and I was right." "What do you mean? You've never been here before -- you've never even been in this UNIVERSE before!" "Some things never change, universe or no universe. Of course I don't know them PERSONALLY, but I know their kind. I've seen my uncle deal with enough of them -- they're tech smugglers. The big guy with the feathers was just talking about some cargo he hasn't been able to find a buyer for -- including a triphasic polaron demodulator." "I thought you said you needed a DIphasic polaron demodulator." "I can modify it. I think. Jake - this may be our chance! Sit tight -- I'll be right back." Nog stood, adjusted his jumpsuit unnecessarily, and strode over to the table. Jake watched, and listened as best his Hu-mon ears and the ambient music allowed. Nog introduced himself as an advance trader from a Rim species, looking for new markets. He allowed as to how the Alliance had possibilities, but seemed a little straitlaced, if the smugglers' leader, one Grythek of Aki'kyu, took his meaning. Grythek did, and signaled to Jake to bring them all more drinks. The Human boy did so, casting a worried look at the back room. Trish seemed pretty well occupied for the moment, though. Jake stayed at the bar, which was a bit closer to the table. "The kid a friend of yours?" rasped the ornithoid, breathing mollusk-juice vapors at Nog. "Not exactly -- he's my Hu-mon contact...'s son. He's been showing me around the station in his off hours, when my contact is on duty. He's a good boy. A little slow, perhaps, but, for my purposes, that's all to the good, hey?" They got into a discussion of the backwardness of the locals -- for instance, Nog was having trouble finding a really top-quality triphasic polaron demodulator... Coincidentally, Grythek just happened to have one -- but did the Ferengi have anything HE'd want? "Advanced tech"? Like what? "Artificial gravity!" declared Nog. "Have it," replied Grythek. He tried again with shields. "Got 'em," the feathered man assured him. Phasers? "Ah...same old same old." Transporter! "What's that?" Nog explained. The ornithoid reared back, his crest feathers lifting. "You're crazy! Disintegrating people and putting them back together again? Nobody in their right MIND would ever use something like that! It gives me the hiccups just THINKING about it!" He hic'd emphatically, his prominent larynx bobbing as he thrust his beaky face at the Ferengi. Nog drew back, took a deep breath, and threw his last card on the table. "Matter out of energy?" the birdman asked, cocking his head slightly to peer at Nog out of one beady eye. "What do you power it with, a star? Haw haw haw!" He laughed raucously, and his entourage joined in on cue. Nog knew a bite when he saw one, though. "Of course not! That would be impractical -- even for us," he allowed grudgingly. "It's much cheaper in recycle mode, but for pure energy conversion it uses a subspace shunt to bypass..." "SUBspace?" Grythek jeered. "That's just science fiction!" It was the birdman's turn to pull back as Nog's grin bared sharp, rending fangs. "YOU may think so, but I can assure you it works. Here -- let me prove it to you. Give me something -- anything -- and I'll bring you back a dozen copies of it in one Earth hour." The smuggler mulled it over, consulting two of his colleagues briefly. He turned back to Nog, tipping his head back and raising his crest slightly. After a moment's perusal, he lowered his head and fished something out of his vest pocket. "All right, here," he said, tossing a small figurine across the table. "An old mating partner gave this to me. It's a talisman of some sort from one of the planets the Vorlons took out -- there's probably not a dozen of them left in the galaxy. Bring me twenty copies -- undetectable copies, mind you, and we'll talk." "Done!" "Oh, and make it three hours from now -- that's 20:00 Earth time -- right here. I've got some REAL business I need to tend to." The smugglers gathered themselves up and departed amid general laughter. Nog slipped the talisman into a belt pouch, waited until the whole crew had left, and hustled back to Jake. ***** There came a bleep at the door to the Narn ambassador's quarters. Ambassador Ta'lon's young protégé G'stral answered it, to find Ambassador Cotto, Mr. Jaddo, and a young Centauri girl on the figurative doorstep. "Ah, Ambassador!" Ta'Lon called from across the room. "I was expecting you. I only wish that I had better news. The extradition files went through without a hitch, and my government is insistent that the...person in question be returned to Narn for execution." "Execution?!?" "Yes...the trial has already been held, by teleconference. Several of our people here wished the execution to take place on Babylon 5, but, fortunately, calmer and wiser heads prevailed, and he should be leaving...any moment now." "Ambassador Ta'Lon, you are making a terrible mistake!" "Threats, Ambassador? I hardly think you are in a position to be making threats, especially since, as I mentioned, the extradition has been approved." Ta'lon managed to look simultaneously sympathetic and immovable. G'stral just looked smug. "No, that's not what I mean. You can't DO this! Here, let me show you..." Vir hastened to the Ambassador's Babcom unit and inserted a data crystal. A standard multiframed document matrix came up, tracing the employment record of Mr. Alosh Harn, records clerk at the Na'Skath Relocation Camp on Narn during the recent occupation. These were juxtaposed with records from then- Commander Ivanova's files on the scheme Vir himself had begun, and the Commander had continued, to help a number of Narns escape the camps. Harn had been recruited after Vir had been forced, by Ambassador Mollari, to disassociate himself from the project, and thus was unknown to him at first. Apparently, though, the man had been instrumental in saving the lives of over three hundred sick, elderly, and pouchling Narns, who otherwise would surely have succumbed to the insentient conditions of the camp. It didn't take Ta'Lon long to put the picture together. And once he did, it didn't take him long to put a call through to the Narn embassy's guard detail. Unfortunately, though, it all took a bit TOO long. The transport had left, and was through the jumpgate by now -- off the regular station comm channels. Their only hope was to get C&C to contact the ship and get it to turn back -- the watch officer put them through to Lt. Commander Corwin's link, but there was no answer. Rather than play comm tag, Ta'Lon took off on foot for officer country, with Vir, G'Stral, and Jaida hurrying to keep up. -------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Jakhel@aol.com Subject: Infinite Regres 1b: DoubleCross Ch. 6 of 8. Date: Sun, 10 Jan 1999 22:20:31 EST * * * * INFINITE REGRESS 1B: DOUBLECROSS * * * * Timeframe: Mid-2264. Jake Sisko and Nog (from Deep Space 9) have picked up an unexpected passenger, and taken a slight wrong turn in the Wormhole. Looking for a way home, they end up on Babylon 5, where they run into a pair of young girls who may be able to help them. Several opportunities have presented themselves so far... The Babylon 5 characters, locations, etc. belong to J. Michael Straczynski and Warner Brothers. The Deep Space Nine characters and Star Trek technology belongs to Paramount and Viacom. The other stray bits are mine. E-mail any feedback to Jakhel@aol.com. This story will be issued one chapter per week, hopefully on Mondays. An edited version is archived at the Infinite Regress Access Point, http://members.aol.com/irwebsite/. Shameless Plug Dept: If you like Infinite Regress, Wandering Star, Rimstalker, and/or A Dark, Distorted Mirror, you'll LOVE the Virtual Sixth Season. If you like (i.e. are addicted to) writing fanfic, and are in serious B5 withdrawal, you should DEFINITELY consider helping us out with an episode or two. E-mail me for details! ALSO looking for writers to come up with chapters for a Due South/B5 crossover round-robin (I'm working on the first chapter in my copious (cough, hack) free time -- should be out Real Soon Now.) ------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 6 The Dark Star was starting to fill up by the time Jason and Selene got back. Ancient rock music throbbed -- "I LOVE this song!" Jason yelled at Selene, who made a face back at him. The evening staff had come in, and Jake and Nog were waiting for them at a back table. "About time you got here," grumbled Nog. "Selene gave me a quick tour," Jason explained. "We even snuck past C&C -- you know, Ops." "And you didn't get caught?" marvelled Jake. "We can discuss the local attractions later," Nog cut in. "We've got business to attend to, here." Jason and Selene looked at each other. Had they missed something? Jake and Nog explained about the smugglers. The other two were dubious at first, but agreed that it was at least as good a chance as waiting around for the Centauri Ambassador to come up with something. "As long as you can handle those guys, Nog..." put in Jason. "Of COURSE I can handle them. They may look tough, but they've never dealt with a FERENGI before." "Good point." "Now. Jake and I will beam up to the runabout and make those copies -- plus I want to run some simulations on the computer based on using the modified demodulator. You two just sit tight and wait for us to get back." "Or you could do some more sightseeing," said Jake. "Are you sure you need me on the runabout?" he added wistfully. "Positive," Nog declared. "Remember," he admonished the other two, "be back here by a quarter to 20:00." "Gotcha," agreed Jason. The older boys ducked into the back room to activate the transporter. ********* "Val'na Pratchett!" "Yo Arjun. How was your patrol?" "Relatively uneventful. However, when we were in parking orbit, waiting to dock, our engineers ran a test of the new anti-proton stealth detectors, and picked up some very interesting readings. I'm transferring them to your station now." The Ranger leader studied the readouts for a moment, absently twisting a dark curl that had come loose from its moorings. "You forwarded these to C&C?" she asked sharply. "Yes, of course, but I thought that you would want to know." "You thought correctly, boyo. Thanks -- I'll take it from here." ********** Selene came back to the table where Jason was finishing off a sandwich. "I did some checking around," she said. "This guy Grythek has a ship docked somewhere in the upper sixties. You wanta go scope it out?" "Sure!" Not long after that, the two kids crouched behind a pile of packing crates, overlooking a medium-sized transport shuttle. It was lean and rakish, as befitted a vessel that flitted on both sides of the law. Streamlined for atmospheric landings, it traded a certain amount of cargo space for thermal shielding and weapons mountings. Selene judged that it needed a crew of perhaps half a dozen, with cramped passenger/supplemental crew space for as many more. That jibed with what Jake and Nog had seen at the Dark Star. There was nobody around at the moment, so the two kids crept closer. The hull was a steel-grey metallo-ceramic, unadorned and pitted from spacedust. The boomerang-shaped fuselage sat firmly on five sturdy landing pylons, about six feet in the air. Jason crept up to the nose, looking for an access hatch, or a viewport...Selene hissed at him from behind a wing pylon, and he ducked behind the front pylon just as a procession of laughing, roughly-dressed humanoids trooped into the docking bay. Most of them carried bundles or steered transport carts -- only the leader himself was completely unburdened. They came on, as the kids exchanged panicked looks. At the last possible second, Selene bolted for the exit, hoping to draw their attention so Jason, at least, could get away. Unfortunately, Selene's uncanny luck had run out. A female ornithoid dropped her packages and sprinted to catch the girl, while a pair of vaguely reptilian guys in leather jackets cornered Jason behind his pylon. "Weeelllll, now, what have we here, a couple of Human children?" the feathered leader drawled as Jason and Selene were dumped in front of him. "Do your parents know that you're sneaking around, trespassing on other people's property?" Jason was silent, mesmerized by those beady, alien eyes. Selene spoke up. "No, but they're gonna miss us -- we're late for dinner already. Bet they'll be calling Security any minute now." She glared up at the tall smuggler, who just laughed. "If they don't know where you are, it would take Security a while to find you, even if they jumped right on it. And somehow, I don't see them dropping their...pressing business to search for a pair of trespassing kids. I'd say you're OURS, little mammals." There was a growl of amused assent from the smuggler's crew. Jason swallowed, terrified. Selene turned pale. "Now, what shall we do with a pair of little mammals?" The female birdperson spat on the deck. "I never liked mammal kids much. Whenever I see one I can't help thinking 'lunch! for me AND the fledgelings!'" Jason flinched, but the smugglers seemed to think it was REAL funny. "Maybe we should cut off their head fur and make decorations out of it," suggested the third ornithoid, a small male with an impressive feather crest. "Mmmm....the female's plumage might fetch a decent price," mused the smuggler leader, reaching out towards Selene with one bony claw. "All right, Grythek, I'll take it from here," a new and deeper voice suggested. The laughter faltered and died. A stout, middle-aged Human in Earthforce Security uniform stood in the doorway, arms folded. Despite his age, girth, and lack of backup, his stance and manner indicated that this was NOT a sentient to be trifled with. Jason thought he looked familiar, but couldn't place him from the regular B5 cast. Grythek chuckled. "Of course you will, Sergeant. That is, after all, what Security is best at -- handling MINOR infractions. Here," he added, suddenly losing interest. "Take them away, and make sure that they are punished." The smugglers holding Jason and Selene shoved them toward the Security officer. "They weren't actually on board your ship," the man pointed out, "so they weren't, technically, trespassing. Howver," his dark gaze fell on the children, "they WERE in a restricted area without permission. If you'll excuse us, Captain?" The ornithoid waved a negligent claw. The Sergeant nodded shortly and shepherded the kids out of the docking bay. "Thanks, Sergeant Satamba," said Selene as they walked. "We were almost really scared there, for a minute." "Almost?" muttered Jason. The big man humphed, although a tiny smile seemed to flicker somewhere behind his tidy, grizzled mustache. "And HOW many times have I told you to stay out of places you're not supposed to be in?" he answered rhetorically. "You know, you gotta watch out for this one," he said to Jason. "She'll get you in trouble before you even know it." He stopped suddenly, and gave the boy a closer look. "You're new around here, aren't you? I know most of the kids Selene runs with, by sight at least, and you're not one of them." "Uh, no," Jason stammered. "I, uh, just came onto the station today." "Oh yeah? What ship? Here, let me see your identicard." Jason stared helplessly at the security officer's outstretched hand. Pulling himself together, he patted his pockets, then tried a winning smile-and-shrug. "I...uh...must have left it with my luggage?" Satamba sighed heavily and crossed his arms. He'd heard THAT one before. As he launched into a lecture about absent-minded kids and the importance of having one's identicard AT ALL TIMES, Jason was struck again by a flash of near-recognition. A shrill, whiny voice answering, a flare of annoyance, a quick change of the channel -- no, he'd lost it. Whatever. This was REALITY, Greg, he reminded himself as the Sergeant wound down. "So can we go now?" Selene asked, fairly dancing in her eagerness to be out of there. "Not this time," Satamba replied, and her smile faded. "I think you two need to have a little talk with the Chief." Selene threw Jason a worried look and the boy returned it, contemplating that fact that, as cool of a guy as Zack might be from outside the TV screen, from his own current perspective the view was not likely to be that great. A few minutes later the Sergeant left them in a surprisingly comfortable holding cell. "Oh, boy, THIS is going to be fun," muttered Jason, hugging himself nervously and staring at the door. "Oh, Mr. Allan's okay," Selene averred with no small amount of bravado, plopping herself down on the bench. "NOT a guy you want to get on the bad side of, though." "Good point," the girl conceded. "But if we just power down and watch our sensors, we should be able to slip by without...you know." Jason was completely lost. She tried again. "Just relax, and pay attention to what's going on -- I mean, it's NOT" she said emphatically, her eyes cutting around the room, "like we have anything to HIDE, or anything." "WHAT are you doing?" She scurried over to him and whispered, "Securecam!" "Well, DUH," he replied in a normal voice. "The thing of it is, I DON'T have anything to hide. I mean, what am I gonna say? Something nobody's supposed to know about, like Sinclair being Valen?" "WHAT?" squawked Selene. ******* "WHAT?" the Security Chief's head snapped around to the offending monitor. Satamba looked up from the console where he was trying, unsuccessfully, to pull up a file on one Jason Hayes. "Sinclair being what?" "Never mind. Now how the heck...what did you say this kid's name was, again?" Satamba told him. Zack swung over to the console and punched up a file, then another. "Well, I'll be...get those kids in here, I want to talk to 'em." Not five minutes later, the two young people were ushered in. Zack was waiting for them in his best Security Chief stance, hands behind his back, his expression grim. Jason wondered if he ought to come to attention or something. The Chief addressed Selene with a half-smile the boy knew better than to believe. "Miss O'Hara. We meet again. How are things in the coffee business?" "Not bad," Selene replied jauntily. Her arms were crossed in front of her, though, Jason noted. He still wasn't sure what do do with his, so he stuck his hands in his pockets. When in Rome, after all... "Look, what are we doing here, Mr. Allan?" the girl went on. "We didn't DO anything." "You didn't...do...anything," Zack repeated thoughtfully. "You just HAPPENED to be taking a walk through the docking bays -- which you're not even supposed to be in -- and stopped for a chat right under the landing pylons of a transport that just HAPPENS to be...well, never mind about that." The kids exchanged a look. Duh, thought Jason -- of COURSE Zack's on to these guys. No wonder the Sergeant was right there. "Lucky for you the Sergeant was right there," the Chief pointed out. "These are not nice people, and as you might have noticed, they're not human, so they might well have accidentally hurt you even if they WERE just joking around. And if they weren't...well, I don't even want to THINK about how many pieces your sister would carve me up into if something happened to you." Selene snorted. "Heck, she'd just be glad to have me out from underfoot. You know that." She folded her arms and looked at the floor, kicking idly at the base of a chair. Zack and Satamba exchanged looks. "Hey, uh, by the way," the Security Chief said. "I'm sorry about your dad. I didn't get a chance to mention it the last time we...uh...talked..." "That's okay," Selene replied, still watching her foot. "It's been three years, now." She shrugged. "We're doing all right, I guess." Zack ran a hand through his hair, settled behind his desk and consulted the file display. "Yeah, I know Trish is managing the Dark Star now, and you're still working for Ari Tefano over in the Garden, part time. You getting your schoolwork done?" The girl scowled, but looked up. "Hey, that's IMPORTANT! You need to get an education so you don't end up in a crummy job like this one." Jason snickered. Zack shot a look at him, then went back to his monitor screen. Uh-oh, here it comes, the boy thought. "So...who's your friend with the sense of humor?" Jason drew a breath and spoke up. "You know who I am, Mr. Allan." That hawklike glare pinned him. "Oh yeah?" Jason nodded. "You've got a file on my mom, from when she was here, and you've probably got a file on...on me, too. You probably looked it up as soon as I mentioned Commander Sinclair." The Security chief actually looked taken aback, but recovered quickly, as Jason knew he would. "Well, it didn't mention anything about you being a telepath!" "I'm NOT!" protested the boy, eyes wide. "Honest, I'm not. I'm just a kid who watches TV a lot. You kinda get to know what people are gonna do..." Zack considered that. "Yeah, well, this ain't no vid, and you kids could have been in big trouble if Sgt. Satamba hadn't been around. So, the question of the day is, why WERE you hangin' around their ship? No, scratch that, the first question is, how did you GET here? I thought that...whatever her name was, that character of your mom's, said there wouldn't be any more of these...interuniversal translocation...ah, situations." "Oh, this has nothing to do with the Rena'a," Jason assured him, then stopped -- "at least, not that I KNOW of. I was just messing with some stuff, and, well, I don't quite know what happened, but I ended up on the Mekong..." "The river?" wondered Satamba. "The runabout," explained Jason. "Only Jake and Nog were stuck in the Wormhole, but then we got out -- except we were HERE instead of at Deep Space 9..." "Who were stuck in the what?" "Deep Space which?" "It's...another TV show. Another station....it's a long story. Jake and Nog are these kids..." "Oh, great," muttered Zack, "More kids." "Where are they now?" the Sergeant asked pointedly. Jason and Selene looked at each other. Selene glared and shook her head. Jason shrugged and told them. "Deep Space 9, huh," mused Zack when they were done. "Yeah, I watched a couple of those vids. Pretty far-fetched, if you ask me. A wormhole to the other side of the galaxy? Aliens who can change shape into whatever they want? Where do they GET this stuff?" Jason decided it was a rhetorical question. Zack stood and straightened his jacket. "In any event, I think this is something the Lt. Commander should know about. Glenn, you keep an eye on those smugglers -- link in if they make any sudden moves." As they left, Satamba heard the boy rattling on again... "Oh, by the way, my mom and I both think Lyta was an idiot to dump you for Byron. She says a man who brings you pizza is worth any number of manipulative blond twits with SERIOUS third sin problems..." The big man shook his head, smiling, and turned his attention to the monitors. ***** As Zack, Jason and Selene approached the Captain's office, Jason heard Corwin's voice drifting through the open doorway. "I had no idea the Commander was so...well, I did, actually, I mean there was that business with the coffee plants, and the way she handled those black market suppliers, but still...Abrahamo Lincolni..." there came the sound of a serious man choking back unseemly giggles. "She had the very same reaction," Ambassador Cotto was saying as they filed in. "I'm not sure whether it was a compliment or...oh, Mr. Allan! Is there a problem?" he asked anxiously, spotting the children. "Welll," drawled Zack, "I'm not sure whether to call it a problem or an opportunity. I believe you know these young people, Ambassador?" "Why, yes, um, they, ah, came to me for help earlier today..." "Yeah, well, it seems they got a little impatient, Ambassador -- the, what is it, Franky? Fringy? -- anyway, the kid with the ears decided to take matters into his own hands..." after backtracking to fill Corwin in on who Jake, Nog and Jason were, the Chief recapped the boys' plan to deal with the smugglers. The Lieutenant Commander forgot himself so far as to perch on the Captain's desk, one foot swinging. "And you think we can use this as an excuse to nab these guys?" Corwin asked eagerly when Zack ran down. "You got it," the Chief agreed. "It sounds dangerous," Vir pointed out. "I mean, they're only children..." Jaida and Selene glared at him. "Why don't we ask them?" suggested Jason. He tapped his combadge. "Jason to Mekong." Nothing. "This is Jason Hayes to Federation runabout Mekong. Come in, please." "What?" an irritated whisper issued from the vicinity of the boy's chest. "You shouldn't be calling like this -- somebody might pick it up!" "Not a problem," Jason assured Jake. "I'm in the Captain's office right now, and Lt. Commander Corwin wants to talk to you two. We have a Plan." "Hang on." They waited while the two older boys consulted. "What plan?" came Nog's voice. Jason started to answer, but Zack cut him off. "These are tech smugglers we're talking about, kid -- do you want to take the chance that they can detect your communicators? Why don't you two...beam yourselves back here and we can talk about it." "How do we know we can trust you?" "What, you don't believe Jason here? Besides, now we know you're there, it shouldn't be that hard to find a way to see through that...cloaking device of yours. Should it?" he asked Jason. "Ummm..." "No, it shouldn't," a feminine voice asserted. A slender, dark-haired Human woman in Ranger uniform strode in. "Dave, if you check the logs from C&C you'll see where White Star 17 sent in some data they picked up with the new anti-stealth sensors. The ship you want is up under the starboard solar collector -- I was just coming to tell you we'd pinpointed it." "Thank you, Ms. Pratchett," Corwin acknowledged a bit stiffly. "You're made, guys, you better come on in." Jason advised the runabout. From: Jakhel@aol.com Subject: Infinite Regres 1b: DoubleCross Ch. 7 of 8. Date: Sun, 17 Jan 1999 18:45:29 EST * * * * INFINITE REGRESS 1B: DOUBLECROSS * * * * Timeframe: Mid-2264. Jake Sisko and Nog (from Deep Space 9) have picked up an unexpected passenger, and taken a slight wrong turn in the Wormhole. Looking for a way home, they end up on Babylon 5, where they run into a pair of young girls who may be able to help them. Several opportunities have presented themselves so far...eventually, however, they are brought to the attention of the Powers that Be. The Babylon 5 characters, locations, etc. belong to J. Michael Straczynski and Warner Brothers. The Deep Space Nine characters and Star Trek technology belongs to Paramount and Viacom. The other stray bits are mine. E-mail any feedback to Jakhel@aol.com. This story will be issued one chapter per week, hopefully on Mondays. A preliminary version is archived at the Infinite Regress Access Point, http://members.aol.com/irwebsite/. Shameless Plug Dept: If you like Infinite Regress, Wandering Star, Rimstalker, and/or A Dark, Distorted Mirror, you'll LOVE the Virtual Sixth Season. If you like (i.e. are addicted to) writing fanfic, and are in serious B5 withdrawal, you should DEFINITELY consider helping us out with an episode or two. E-mail me for details! ALSO looking for writers to come up with chapters for a Due South/B5 crossover round-robin (I'm working on the first chapter in my copious (cough, hack) free time -- should be out Real Soon Now.) ------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 7. Twin columns of sparkling light formed in front of the Captain's desk, resolving into a pair of humanoid forms. Vir and Zack nodded at each other, and the others tried to look impassive, with varying degrees of success. Jason did the introductions. "Lieutenant -- ah, I mean Lieutenant COMMANDER Corwin, Mr. Allan, This is Jake Sisko, and Nog -- um, do Ferengi have last names?" "No," replied Nog. "Each individual is accountable to the Unseen Auditors for his own profit or loss..." "Well, isn't that nice," said Zack. "Chief!" Corwin admonished, then turned to the boys. "Look, um, guys, we appreciate what you've been through...well, as much as we can, under the circumstances. And we'd like to help you find a way to get back where you belong, but so far the best lead we've got seems to be the one YOU'VE found." Vir spoke up. "Didn't President Sheridan say something about a beacon the Rena'a left on Epsilon 3? Couldn't we call them and, well, ask THEM to take the boys home?" Corwin shook his head. "I wouldn't want to risk that without authorisation from the President AND the Captain, and I've had strict orders not to try and contact the Captain until she calls me. So unless you kids want to wait until she gets back..." "Umm, no," decided Jake, seconded by the others. "Nothing against your station -- it's a wonderful station, it's just..." "We'd REALLY like to get home," finished Jason. "So what's this plan of yours?" asked Nog. "Well, you know this little deal you're setting up with Grythek the tech smuggler?" asked Zack, rhetorically. "You TOLD them?" Nog accused Jason. "Excuse me, but I AM the Chief of Security," the Chief pointed out. "It's my business to know this kinda thing." "Where have I heard THAT before?" muttered the Ferengi. "Anyway," Zack went on, "do you really think you can pull it off? Convince those guys that you're a trader -- a legitimate, ADULT trader, and set up an exchange of your 'advanced' technology for theirs, without the local heat -- that would be me -- catching on?" Nog looked confused for a moment, then caught on. "Aaaaaahhhhh -- you want me to set them up!" "Bright kid," Zack told Corwin. "So what's in it for ME? I mean, US?" Nog went on. "You mean, ASIDE from a chance at not only getting home, but getting home ALIVE, which we might not have without backup?" said Jason. "Yeah, ASIDE from that," said Nog snidely. "Our thanks," replied Corwin earnestly. "AND we don't press charges for unauthorized entry onto the station, endangering local traffic, and half a dozen other infractions I can think of off the top of my head," added Zack. "He's got a point," said Jake. Nog looked at him a moment, considering. Then he looked at Corwin, and at Ambassador Cotto, and finally at the Security Chief, whose stern expression suddenly reminded the young Ferengi of Captain Sisko in a particularly stubborn mood. "So," he said at last, rubbing his hands together with sudden enthusiasm, "What's the plan?" The plan was pretty standard, actually - Nog would set 'em up, and Zack's people would take 'em down. It had been tried before, of course, but every time the target had sniffed out the setup and escaped. The advantage they had this time was that Nog really WAS an alien, of a heretofore (and, with any luck, hereinafter) unknown species, who really DID have new technology to trade. Zack and Corwin whipped up a background for him, including a travel log originating out near the Rim, in the opposite direction from the area Grythek frequented. (Although the Interstellar Alliance might occupy a relatively 'small neighborhood' from the Federation's viewpoint, that still encompassed a lot of territory - several score races and several hundred occupied worlds!) They registered him a room, effective yesterday, and even made up a background for Jake based on what Nog had already improvised. Hopefully, Grythek wouldn't sic his data-ferrets on the Ferengi until after he got his "proof" (which the boys had brought along), so they should have everything in place in the station's databases in plenty of time. Nog was briefed in excruciating detail on exactly what to tell Grythek and where and when to set up the exchange. "Just make sure you're convincing," Zack added. "I know what I'm doing," replied Nog, a bit testily. "As long as you HU-mons hold up your end, and don't come blasting in ahead of time, this should all go as smooth as Antarean spider-silk." "I didn't know they had spiders on Antares II," commented Corwin. The Ferengi looked at him, a speculative gleam in his eye. "Nog!" admonished Jake. "This is all in aid of getting HOME, remember?" "Of course, but if we CAN get home from here..." "Forget it!!! Even if we can rig something to get us between universes, it's MUCH too dangerous to think about opening up trade. Think about the timeline problems - hell, it would probably be a violation of the Prime Directive, anyway!" "The prime what?" asked Zack. "The Federation's Prime Directive prohibits them from interfering with other species' internal affairs or development," Jason explained, "Even when it means letting oppressive governments take over and stuff like that. It's supposed to prevent things like when the Europeans took over North and South America." "How....quaint," Zack decided. "Does it WORK?" Corwin wondered. "Sorta, sometimes," Jason answered. Jake opened his mouth to protest, thought about it, and shrugged instead. "Besides," Nog went on, "this is your own species we're talking about, Jake - the cofounders of the Federation itself, in our universe. So it wouldn't really BE violating the Prime Directive anyway..." Jason thought there was something wrong with that logic, but couldn't quite pinpoint it. Fortunately, however, the issue was academic at this point. It was almost time to meet with Grythek at the Dark Star. Zack and Satamba accompanied the kids to the bar, and explained what was going on to Trish. She wasn't happy about it, but went along, especially after Sgt. Satamba offered to put up the two Human boys in his family's quarters -- with any luck this evening would be the last time Trish would have to deal with any of them. The Security men faded before the smugglers arrived, and Jason and the girls hung out in the back room. Jake took a position washing glassware behind the bar, trying to stay out of the bartender's way, and Nog perched on a barstool to wait. At about 20:10, just as Nog was starting to sweat, the smugglers trooped into the bar. With an effort, the Ferengi youngster waited until the birdman and his entourage had settled, then swaggered over to their table. With a flourish, he scattered a belt-pouch full of identical figurines across the table. Grythek picked one up, scowled at it, and passed it back to a henchdraz for verification. Nog waited patiently until the smuggler was satisfied. When Grythek waved him to a seat, they got down to business. By adroit maneuvering and judicious use of reverse psychology, Nog was able to set up precisely the scenario Zack had laid out -- a meeting late the next 'morning' at a specific location in Grey Sector, just Nog and Grythek. Of course, that meant the birdman would have at least three or four thugs out of sight backing him up - but that was OK because Zack would already have a whole team waiting for them. "Now, where was it you said you were from, again?" asked Grythek as they were winding down. "If all your people are as...congenial as yourself, it might be worth my while to take a trip out that way." "Ferengenar, sector 242 by 59 by 17 as the Hu-mons reckon it," replied Nog, having been briefed on the local coordinate system by Lt. Commander Corwin. "As far as congeniality goes, being an exploratory trader I am of course trained to be...accomodating to aliens. You may find that those closer to the homeworld, who are accustomed to our cutthroat dealings with each other, may drive a much harder bargain..." Grythek laughed. "We G'k'kyakh are no strangers to the art of..." his beaklike mouth gaped to show serrated toothlike ridges, and his claws flexed -- "cutting throats ourselves. I look forward to dealing with more of your kind," he asserted. Nog surprised himself with a fleeting moment of relief that Ferengenar WAS in another universe -- not that Grythek was going to get a chance to explore in that direction anyway, if things went according to plan. Downing the last of his (carefully innocuous, though quite nasty-looking) drink, Nog excused himself and made his way self-consciously out of the room. Jake, watching from behind the bar, saw the smuggler assign a goon to follow him. Another also went off, presumably to hack into the station's database and validate the Ferengi's background. About half an hour later, the bar's comm unit bleeped. Trish answered with a tight, guarded expression as Corwin's clean-cut features appeared on the screen. "Dark Star. What can we do for you, Lieutenant Commander?" "Oh, um, Ms. Livingston, I'm really terribly sorry to inconvenience you like this," Corwin stammered, even more flustered than usual. "But is Jake Sisko still there? We just got the all-clear signal from his friend, and I thought he'd want to know..." "Yeah, he's here," the manager snapped, one hand involuntarily going up to check that her bun was securely fastened. She brought it back down as soon as she realized what she was doing, inadvertently loosening a strand in the process. "I'll switch you to the back room, the girls will want to know, too," she went on. She hesitated, as his gaze locked onto the betraying strand of dark, silky hair. "Good luck with your plan, I never liked that guy Grythek anyway," she said finally, in a rush, and switched the signal over. Jake hastily ducked into the back room to catch it, grinning to himself. Nog was right, he decided: one universe or another, some things NEVER changed. Corwin told them that Nog had made it to his room safely, and that the smuggler's data-sniffing had been traced, the false information retrieved, and no unexpected queries detected. As far as they could tell, the plan was a go. Jake thanked him and signed off. There was no more reason to linger there, so the girls walked Jake and Jason to the Satambas' corridor, then headed home themselves. **** Jake pushed the annunciator button, and the door opened to reveal a dark moppet in a bright-colored dress, with gold earrings, mischievous sparkly eyes, and a wild profusion of braids. She clutched an even smaller boy almost like a rag doll -- a squirmy rag doll who promptly escaped and ran back into the apartment yelling "Mama! The boyth are here!" "Are you the boys my Daddy said were coming?" The girl asked. Jake grinned and bowed extravagantly. "Jake Sisko, at your service - and my associate, Mr. Jason Hayes." Jason smiled and swept a respectable bow of his own, to which the young girl -- three or four years younger than himself, Jason judged -- responded with a slightly wobbly curtsey. "Akili, bring the boys inside and help me to get them something to eat - they must be starving!" a softly accented, musical voice sounded from within. Miriam Satamba turned out to be a small, pleasantly plump woman, with a warm, invigorating energy. As she bustled about the apartment, clearing the remains of the family's dinner and the children's play, the boys found themselves joining in as though they belonged. For Jake the feeling was nostalgic, taking him back to when he was Akili's age, and his mother was still alive. Jason was more used to being an 'adjunct kid': as an only child of a single mom, his 'sleepover manners' were second nature. "Your mother must be very proud of such a helpful boy," Mrs. Satamba commented as Jason brought his dishes to her at the sanitizer. "Umm, yes, ma'am," the boy replied, unwilling to admit how astonished his mother would actually be to see him VOLUNTARILY clearing up after himself. Unfortunately, that got him thinking about his mom...Jake spoke up, though, distracting him from his funk before it really got started. "Your quarters remind me of my grandfather's house in New Orleans," the older boy said. "That's a compliment," he added quickly, and Miriam flashed a smile. "My family is from Jamaica, as you may have noticed," she replied. The boys grinned -- aside from Mrs. Satamba's lilting accent, one wall of the living area held a magnificent holoview of the island's lovingly maintained mountains and beaches. "Have you lived on the station long? I know...I mean, when I came to Deep Space 9, it was quite a change from Earth, or even Mars, for that matter." The woman sighed. "My career took me offworld many years before the children were born -- we visit home whenever we can, but I am afraid that space station corridors are more familiar to them than open land. When we came here, to Babylon 5, for a long time they were even uncomfortable going to the Garden with their playgroup every day." "What do you do?" Jason asked, interested. He suspected that her work must carry as much or more prestige than her husband's, since their quarters were lavish for B5 -- separate living, dining, and office areas, and two actual BEDROOMS with individual bathrooms. "I work in Resource Management," she replied, which explained THAT. She went on to tell them about her responsibilities ensuring that the massive life support and recycling systems throughout the station functioned properly, as well as overseeing allocation of space, parts, basic foodstuffs, furnishings, water, and consumer energy supplies, AND the relatively close monitoring of the onstation free-market economy. "Of course my position here as assistant coordinator mainly involves routing and following up on requests, but believe me, in my time I have seen the inside of every kind of cargo hold and recycling facility still in operation -- plus a few that are not!" "I'd never thought about it before, but without replicator technology, recycling must be a massive issue -- literally!" Jake chuckled at his own small joke. Jason rolled his eyes. "Replicator? What is that?" As Jake and Mrs. Satamba settled into what promised to be a lengthy discussion, Jason wandered off to play with the kids. Both were bright and precocious, and Jason was able to put aside his worries for the moment. Sgt. Satamba returned from his shift just before the little ones were sent to bed, and Jake asked if it would be all right to check in on Nog before they themselves turned in. The Security man decided a visit would be too risky, but routed a Babcom call for them. "Nog of Ferengenar, Imports from beyond the Rim our specialty, how can I...oh, it's you." "Yeah -- good line though. Um...how are your quarters?" "Small, but...adequate. All they have is Hu-mon music on the room system, though. I'm trying to decide between the Beach Boys and something called 'Gregorian Chant'." "Beach Boys," put in Jason. "Definitely, go for the Beach Boys. Unless, of course, you have trouble sleeping." "I'll remember that. How are things on your end?" "Great!" Jake enthused. "The Satambas are really nice people, you'd like them." Nog shook his head. "Domestic situations involving females wearing clothes still make me nervous. I'll catch up with you guys after the...festivities tomorrow." "Yeah, I guess," agreed Jake. "Be careful, okay?" "Yeah, and watch your back," added Jason. The other two looked at him oddly. The younger boy shrugged. "Just...sounded like a good line, that's all." From: Jakhel@aol.com Subject: Infinite Regres 1b: DoubleCross Ch. 8 of 8. Date: Sun, 24 Jan 1999 20:37:40 EST * * * * INFINITE REGRESS 1B: DOUBLECROSS * * * * Timeframe: Mid-2264. The Grande Finale. The Babylon 5 characters, locations, etc. belong to J. Michael Straczynski and Warner Brothers. The Deep Space Nine characters and Star Trek technology belongs to Paramount and Viacom. The other stray bits are mine. E-mail any feedback to Jakhel@aol.com. A fully edited version of this story is archived at the Infinite Regress Access Point, http://members.aol.com/irwebsite/. Shameless Plug Dept: The Virtual Sixth Season: "The Price of Freedom" is now in progress, coming to you courtesy of the Alternate Universe Today mailing list. For a recap of Episode 1: "Black Knight Rising" so far, contact the author, Stephen J. Barringer, at sjbarrin@netcom.ca. Also stay tuned for Episode 2: "Spectre of the Fire", by David G. Goldingay, coming soon. We are still looking for authors to pitch in on future episodes -- don't be afraid, we don't bite. Much. * * * * And now, the conclusion of Infinite Regress 1b: DoubleCross. ------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 8 The next morning, Sgt. Satamba took Jake and Jason to join Ambassador Cotto, Jaida, and Selene at the 'station house'. He left a young guard to run the monitoring equipment for them and went off to join Zack on the stake-out, and in due time a hidden camera showed Nog walking into the designated meetingplace. Grythek appeared a moment later, and the two conferred. As soon as Nog traded a specially-prepared data crystal for a small metal case, the room erupted with Security guards and smugglers. Nog hit the deck rolling and scuttled for the door. He had almost made it when the birdwoman plucked him up like a rabbit and hauled him, under the covering fire of her shipmates, out behind Grythek. "Damn," Jake swore. "I told him to watch his back," pointed out Jason. The security guard punched up the link frequency. "Head for the ship -- that's where they're going," Zack's voice came through. The boys fretted helplessly through the ensuing chase. When the smugglers' ship broke out of its docking bay and went into stealth mode, eluding the pursuing Starfuries, they nodded sharply to each other and Jake slapped his comm badge. "Sisko to Mekong. Two to..." "HEY!" yelled Selene. "Correction -- four to beam up," finished the older boy. Before the security guard figured it out, the children had vanished in a haze of sparkles. On board the Mekong, Jake was able to track the fleeing ship with Federation- style sensors. They arc'd away from the station, looping off in the opposite direction from the jumpgate. A blue vortex opened in space, and Jake unhesitatingly sent the runabout in after the smugglers' vessel. Shifting, pulsating red strangeness engulfed them. Ahead, the Mekong's sensors tracked the smugglers' ship. Soon, as Jason, Jaida and Selene were exploring the runabout's cabin and Jake was trying to make sense of the odd sensor readings, the ship ahead shimmered into view -- quickly, Jake checked their own cloak -- still holding, as far as he could tell. Whether it was proof against the alien ship's sensors, though, was another question. As time went on with no dangerous signs from the other ship, they both hurtled farther and farther from what two out of four of the young people called home. Jake adjusted the impulse engines tentatively, and they gradually moved up to what he was pretty sure was transporter range, even in this truly alien environment. After lots of swearing at the computer, he thought he had a lock on Nog -- "Here goes nothing!" he called back to the others, and stroked the slider. **** "There is some sort of transmission from the cloaked ship to the smugglers' vessel, Val'na." The first officer of a White Star some distance astern reported. "Comm signal?" "It...doesn't look like it. It's not on any known frequency -- we're only picking up the edges of it, but the information density seems very high -- as if they're downloading -- no, make that UPloading -- an entire A.I. system -- or more! Whatever it is, though, it just stopped." "Is the other ship responding in any way?" "No, Val'na, it doesn't look like it." "Hold position. Let's see what they do next..." **** There was a shimmer and a metallic whine, and a short, big-eared, thoroughly disgruntled figure appeared on the transporter pad. "Well, it's about time!" the Ferengi snarled, as soon as he got done materializing. "Yeah, we're glad to see you, too," snapped Selene. Jaida looked up with a frown from the copilot's console, where she was still valiantly attempting to make heads or tails of the runabout's systems. Jake just snorted. "I just hope they didn't get a lock on us when we decloaked to beam you over," he said. "I don't think they'd fire, anyway," Jason opined. "Not now, at least." "Well," Nog said snidely, "If we get the hell OUT of here and back to your stupid station, they won't have anyone to fire AT!" "Um," said Jake, looking out the viewport at the roiling red otherness of hyperspace, "There might be a small problem with that..." "Auditors' Endless Credit!" swore Nog in amazement as he registered the view. "What's THAT?" "Hyperspace," replied Jason shortly. "Can we go to warp?" the Ferengi asked. Jason winced at the very concept. "Uh, I'm not sure what would happen if we TRIED," Jake pointed out. Nog considered for a moment, then nodded. "You're right," he acknowledged, "It makes MY brain hurt just thinking about it." "Can we follow the beacon back to B5?" asked Selene, more practically. "Beacon? What beacon?" asked Nog. "Do you know what frequency it's on? Is it EM or subspace? Well, I suppose it wouldn't be subspace, would it?" The girls looked at each other helplessly. Jake and Nog set the computer looking across all available spectra for anything that looked like a beacon, but in the meantime, they didn't dare lose track of the alien ship -- it might be their only way out of this "otherspace". If they could follow it back into normal space, they'd be able to find their way back to the station, but they had no way at all of getting OUT of hyperspace on their own. Jason showed the girls the 'fresher and the replicator, and between the three of them they came up with lunch. The "afternoon" passed slowly, without a hint of a beep from the computer. All the sensors were functioning oddly, and Nog was beginning to wonder about things like the shields, structural integrity fields...little housekeeping-type details like that. Suddenly, a yellow vortex opened in the red seething, and the smugglers' ship popped through. The Mekong followed, and the vortex closed. Not long after, another opened in the same spot, and a White Star exited. It came out into a firefight, as the decloaked runabout dodged and wove between the smugglers' ship and a much larger vessel. Apparently the cloak had failed as they left hyperspace, and the youngsters had been spotted. Any lingering doubts the Ranger chief had were shelved for the moment, and the sleek warship tore into the attacking ships, sending them into confusion. Jake and Nog managed to avoid shooting the White Star by accident, and pulled off behind a handy asteroid, on strict orders from Val'na Pratchett. The White Star crippled both enemy ships handily, and the backup ships from Pratchett's triad showed up too late to join in the action. Pratchett herself escorted the Mekong back to the station, with Grythek and his superior securely stowed in her brig. En route, she explained to the youngsters that the Rangers had placed a tracer on the Mekong (in all the excitement, the ship's detector warning had gone unnoticed), and had followed them the whole way. "Why didn't you show up sooner?" Jake demanded. "We...I mean, the girls were getting really scared, there." "ExCUSE me, Mr. 'I don't know HOW we're going to get out of this one'?" sniped Selene. "Okay, I guess we were all scared." "Well, I'm sorry about that, but until they started shooting at you we couldn't be sure you weren't in with them all along," Val'na Pratchett pointed out, reasonably enough. "It all worked out for the best, though. We even got your polaron demodulator back for you." "Well, that's a relief, anyway!" sighed Nog. Jamie Pratchett smiled, thinking about what ELSE they had retrieved from the smugglers' ship... ***** When they get back to the Captain's office, they found a spry, elderly man and a slight, earnest-looking Minbari woman deep in conversation with the Lieutenant Commander. Apparently, they were examining baby holos. "Here's the little devil by the waterfall -- look, he's got the stuffed toy Starfury the wife and I sent for his first birthday. Sturdy little chap, isn't he?" "Sturdy is indeed the word," replied the Minbari woman. "My colleague Zonilenn at the diplomatic office in Tuzanor has a little boy about David's age, and she says when they play together....well, let's just say Donnan's baby crest has seen more use than those of MOST toddlers! Young Master Sheridan has apparently inherited his father's way with a fighter, although his tactics need some refining." "Pacifism may take a few more generations to breed into the line," the older man agreed. The Ranger chief cleared her throat. Corwin looked up, made introductions, and the two Ambassadors took their leave. Jason looked after the President's father and Ambassador Sherann curiously -- another story he would probably not have the chance to follow up on. Once the explanations were made, Nog got to work on the runabout, with help from the station's best engineers. What with one thing and another, the boys decided to spend the "night" on the station, and get a fresh start in the morning. They all met for the last time in Zack's office. Ambassadors Cotto and Ta'lon had good news about Mr. Harn -- he had not only been returned to his interrupted vacation, but had been handsomely recompensed for the inconvenience, and a statue of him was being planned for the former Na'Skath Camp on Narn. Jamie Pratchett filled Corwin and the kids in on the results of the search of the smugglers' ships, then Zack Allan reported on the interrogation of the detainees. Between the two of them, they had enough information to put Grythek's gang away for a long, long time, and the other smugglers had mysteriously disappeared from the vicinity of Babylon 5. Corwin beamed at the Security Chief. "You're a real pro, Zack!" he said admiringly. Jason cracked up. When the others looked at him curiously, he shrugged, explaining that it was a 20th Century joke, and they wouldn't get it. "As long as it's not one of those elephant jokes," put in Zack. "I HATE those." Jason grinned, and said promptly, "What do you get when you cross an elephant and a Vorlon?" "Oh, geez..." Zack rolled his eyes to the ceiling. Corwin frowned thoughtfully. "I don't know, what DO you get?" "Don't DO this to me, David..." begged the Chief. Jason shrugged. "Hard to say. It looks different to everyone who sees it. But if it SITS on you, you're dead." The girls groaned. Corwin and the Ambassadors laughed. Val'na Pratchett looked around speculatively, then tossed out, "How many Vorlons does it take to change a light bulb?" Jason gave the obligatory straight line. "I don't know, how many Vorlons DOES it take to change a light bulb?" The Ranger whistled a brief atonal melody, then dropped her voice to a sepulchral monotone. "Yes." Zack went over and beat his head against the wall a couple of times, just on general principles. "Come on, Jason," said Jake, "We'd better get out of here before he arrests somebody for aggravated mental battery." As the three boys made their goodbyes, Jake and Jaida seemed a bit wistful. "Are you sure you won't get in trouble for running off with us like that?" Jake asked. Jaida smiled and shook her head. "Ambassador Cotto and the Lieutenant Commander will speak up for us. "It'll be all right," she assured him. Meanwhile, Jason and Selene were exchanging what she told him was a Drazi Warrior's Farwell, including a ritual head-butt which left them both laughing. Nog exchanged solemn nods with the Ambassadors, the Commander, and the Chief. After they beamed up, and the Mekong disappeared from C&C's screens, Corwin whooped with long-suppressed glee and flipped a datacrystal into the office port. "Is that the Federation technology Nog traded for the demodulator?" Vir asked, torn between eagerness and trepidation. "The very thing," Zack replied smugly. "Now let's see what these folks from the future have to tell us." The screen filled with static, then cleared.... **** "Hey, Nog, did you get that datacrystal back?" asked Jake. "What datacrystal?" Nog returned, innocent. Jake LOOKED at him. "Oh, THAT datacrystal." The Ferengi snapped his fingers. "Drat, you know, they never gave it back to me -- it completely slipped my mind until you mentioned it." He looked up defiantly at his friend. "NOG! There's technical specs on that crystal a hundred years -- or more -- in advance of what they have! The Prime Directive..." "Yes, yes, I know, the Prime Directive forbids interference with less developed species. But this universe is so rich with alien cultures, I hardly think a copy of the Rules of Acquisition will do them ALL that much harm." Jake looked hard at his friend. Jason cracked up. "You put a copy of the Rules of Acquisition on that crystal instead of..." Jake said wonderingly. "Of course -- you didn't think I'd REALLY leave technical specs with them, did you? Or trade them to a flock of feathered bandits, for that matter. If our friends on Babylon 5 study the files I left them, they will eventually come across Rule 132 -- 'NEVER play fair when you have a chance to cheat'." "Yeah, well, they'll do fine on their own, anyway," declared Jason. The other two, curiosity finally aroused, pestered him for details as the Mekong headed back to the Rift, and their respective homes. THE END. --------------------------------------------------------------------