From: LtCmKieran@aol.com Subject: Fan Fiction Submission: A Place to Call Home- 14 Date: Mon, 19 Jul 1999 01:22:09 EDT Well, ladies and gents, I've finally gotten 'round to Part 14. Mostly an Alina/Andrew part, stirring the soup just a bit more, but there's a little Susan at the end for flavor. Feedback is always welcome. Later! Terri http://terri.osborne.net ---------- Part 14 of ? A Place to Call Home By Terri Osborne LtCmKieran@aol.com ---------- Disclaimers in previous parts. Content Warning: [AC] [AL] Anything encased in *asterisks* is emphasized or stressed text (read it as boldface or italicized text). Anything encased in <* these *> is telepathic speech. And thanks to my eagle-eyes, better known as Sharon and Sarah! Virtual boxes of Godivas to both of you! ---------- April 2, 2264 The voices of twenty-one men and women greeted Alina as she stepped into the packed meeting room. Their collective curiosity was palpable as she crossed the threshold. Why were they there? What did *they* have in common? The lone familiar voice in the din was doing his best to answer their questions without revealing too much, but most of the answers she heard falling from Andrew Keene's lips consisted of statements that Alina would explain everything when she arrived. The realization that she was finally there calmed the room to some extent. Andrew turned away from speaking with a slender, dark-haired woman with a cafe au lait complexion named Elizabeth Graves. Her file had said that she was a high P11, not a violent person, but still capable of causing quite a bit of trouble whenever she wanted. She was just the kind of person Alina needed for this project. Alina's spirit warmed at the smile that spread across his features as he crossed the room. "They're ready whenever you are," he said. She stared at the faces that surrounded her, their presence the fruit of hours of painstaking research. If she included herself and Andrew, she had twenty-two people for this project, all high-level telepaths or telekinetics. She had not planned for there to be an even split between men and women, or an even split between telepaths and telekinetics, counting herself as a telekinetic, but that was what the criteria used for the Minbari experiment had yielded. When she considered that twenty-two had always been her lucky number, she could not help but appreciate the irony. "Ladies and gentlemen," she called. "If you could please get comfortable, we'll begin." A few of the women lowered themselves to the floor, the others finding the scant few chairs that had been scraped together for this meeting. The men either remained standing or slid onto the few crates that had been scattered about the area. When all were settled, Alina stepped forward. "First, I would like to thank you all from the bottom of my heart for being here this evening. I know you all have questions about what's going on. I apologize for the level of secrecy that was involved in gathering you all here, but please believe me when I say that the secrecy was and will remain necessary. I have called you all together for a project that is so sensitive that it must remain a secret even from your own families. We simply cannot allow the knowledge that will be gained here to reach the Corps, and I am willing to take any and all measures necessary to ensure that it does not." She paused, allowing her words to register with her audience. "If anyone here has difficulty working within this scenario, I recommend you leave the room now before any sensitive information is given out. I assure you that you will suffer no consequences should you decide to leave." When no one moved to go, Alina smiled and nodded. "Good. Now, ladies and gentlemen, it's time to get down to business. I know you all are curious as to why you are here, what you all have in common. You were all chosen for your superior ratings and past history of non-violent behavior, which is integral to this movement, as well as this project. Our intent is to heal, not hurt." With measured steps, Alina began to walk around the room. She took in the faces that had been nothing more than photographs in a file before that moment. A hand on a shoulder here, a pat on the back there, and their confidence rose. Curiosity ebbed away. She could sense the faith they had in her, in the movement, and especially in a project they knew nothing about. If she lived a millennium, she would never understand the human race's capacity for blind faith and self-delusion. "Not only will we heal," she continued, "but our intent is to possibly even cheat death itself. Over the next few months, I will train each of you individually as well as in teams. I will tell you all right now that the training will be personalized. Some of the things I will teach you will be the same, some will not, but be certain that what I will teach you is absolutely necessary for this project to succeed." "Alina?" Andrew asked. "Yes?" He stepped forward, head bowed in thought. "Well, I was thinking that we can't exactly run around calling this 'the project'. It needs a name." She arched a dark eyebrow. "And your idea would be?" "The information that Delenn sent said that they tried their version of this in a circular facility, with the telepaths and telekinetics standing in a circle around the person they were trying to heal. Sounds like as good a name as any other." Alina shook her head slowly, smiling all the while. It was precisely the name she had intended to use. "It's perfect," she replied. Turning back to the rest of the group, she continued. "The Circle it is. Consider it a code name, if you wish. Once you are all trained, it will be possible to call the Circle together within minutes. Should the call go out, we will assemble here." A small blonde woman raised a hand. Alina recognized her as the mother of the little girl she had rescued from a cave-in not a month before. "Yes, Stefanie?" "Are we going to be trained as healers?" she asked. Alina stepped over toward where Stefanie sat, looking down at her curious turquoise eyes. They were amazingly similar to Kelly's eyes. There was no mistaking that this woman was the little girl's mother. "To a certain extent," she replied. "You will all be trained in specific areas of the body. The telekinetics here will become the healers. It is the telepaths who will have the most difficult part of the Circle, however." Standing, she addressed her comments to the assembly. "The telepaths in the room will be dealing primarily with the seriously injured patients, keeping their spirits up and helping alleviate their pain. Stopping pain telekinetically takes far more energy than is practical. This is why you will be working in teams. A telepath to help the patient handle the pain, a telekinetic to heal the injury. The telepaths, however, will also be trained to assist critically injured patients, people on the verge of death." A small groan emanated from the back of the group. "You're worried about deathbed scans, I understand. Rest assured that only if the full Circle is ever called together will there be any deathbed scans performed. Although, if any of you have experience with them that I am not aware of, it will be beneficial. Ladies and gentlemen, what I am talking about is the people in this room facing a challenge so great that the Psi Corps has never even attempted it. The Minbari, however, have, and they have been kind enough to share the results of that experience with us." This brought a murmur of renewed curiosity from her audience. "I said that this would be an attempt to cheat death itself. A functioning Circle, able to heal even the most critically injured patient, is the ultimate goal of our project. Any deathbed scan will be done with the rest of the group. No one will bear that burden alone, I promise you. Ideally, your collective abilities will be used to keep the person's consciousness from leaving the body. In some instances, however, we might not be so fortunate, and we may have to try putting it back in." A laugh came from the back of the room. "You're talking about putting the ghost back into a dead body?" "Yes, Mister Thompson," she flatly replied. "Metaphorically speaking, that's precisely what I'm talking about. I'll be instructing the telepaths individually on this subject as we go along. Keep in mind, *only* the telepaths will be instructed on this topic. This is the knowledge that must be kept absolutely secret. If you are wondering why, simply imagine what kind of damage Psi Corps could, and no doubt would, do with the knowledge of how to manipulate a human being's life energies." A frightened silence filled the room. Alina surveyed her new students, praying to gods both Minbari and human that she had chosen the right people. One minor argument, and the same knowledge they were trying so desperately to protect could turn on them. In an effort to quell the rising anxiety, she opted for giving them a bit of comforting news. "In an attempt to minimize the danger, we have made a deal with Edgars Industries that will keep the telepaths comfortably away from the fighting. You will be working with Mister Garibaldi on an investigation into some projects that were, shall we say, remnants of the corporation's previous owner. As for the telekinetics, you will remain here in the base. Your responsibilities will be primarily defensive. Andrew will be assisting the telepaths in training for their investigations. I will be training the telekinetics in defensive strategy. You will not be involved in the fighting unless it knocks on our front door. I realize that this is quite a bit of information to digest all at once, so does anyone have any questions?" There were murmurs of disbelief throughout the room. Alina sensed that they were not quite certain they were worthy of such a project. Yet they still wanted to believe themselves to be the right people, in the right place, at the right time. She wanted to believe it just as much. When no questions came, she dismissed the meeting, cautioning her small group not to discuss the matter with anyone else. Still, they departed talking amongst themselves. "They idolize you and Lyta, you know," Andrew stated. With a snort of derision, she replied, "Blind faith. That's a bad thing. Just because we're leading this thing doesn't mean we're completely infallible." "Well, Thompson *did* think you were a little nuts with the ghost idea." "*I'm* beginning to think I'm a little mad with that idea, Andrew. The only saving grace is that Lyta got Mister Garibaldi to go along with it. Do you think the telekinetics are strong enough to hold up the bloodhound watch?" He nodded. "You forget, I've seen Bester's people at work. They can get so wrapped up in their hunting, they trip up and do things even a low-level teek could work with." "More blind faith," she observed. "They think they're above the law, so they won't be punished." Andrew nodded as he handed her a stack of files. "That's Bester in a nutshell." A thought nagged at the back of her mind as she slowly followed him back into the tunnels. "One of these days you'll have to show me a photograph of him, Andrew. Something seems quite familiar about him." ---------- April 4, 2264 Susan surveyed the tunnels that surrounded her, the coppery dust barely disturbed in the three days since she'd last been here. Yes, this was the place. She was certain of it. Even her telepathic sense told her she was far enough away from the main tunnel. When she was certain that she was alone, she flipped the switch on the recorder. Slipping a data crystal into the slot, she lowered her voice to a near-whisper. "Major Ryan, it's Captain Ivanova. I'm in the headquarters of the resistance. Sir, I have an idea to bring this thing to a close peacefully, but it's going to take some time. Your help would be beneficial. I know I'm here unofficially, and I told Lyta privately that I've resigned, but I need that to be public record. I can't explain it right now, but it's important to this plan. Please, trust me on this. As soon as I can explain the whole thing, I will. Ivanova out." [End Part 14] From: LtCmKieran@aol.com Subject: Fan Fiction Submission - A Place to Call Home 15/? Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1999 00:15:28 EDT Ladies and Gentlemen, Part 15 I apologize for the delay in getting to this part, as things have been hectic in RL of late. I'm trying to get on a schedule with these. Cheers! Terri --------- Part 15 of ? A Place to Call Home By Terri Osborne LtCmKieran@aol.com ---------- All Babylon 5 characters and settings belong to JMS, Warner Brothers, TNT and anyone else with legitimate legal claim. No infringement of copyright is intended by this work. Only a few select characters are mine, and should the Great Maker need them, or anyone similar to them, I can probably be bought off with a story credit. ;-) Even though this covers the same time period and the same major event, no infringement upon J. Gregory Keyes' novels is intended. Though, I will draw upon them for some background information. Content Warning: [AC] [AL] Anything encased in *asterisks* is emphasized or stressed text (read it as boldface or italicized text). Since I'm not sure of everyone's schedules, I'll include this potential spoiler warning: I'm a continuity junkie, so this includes events through Season 5, as well as things that were revealed in the closing credits of Sleeping in Light. Background information on the Psi Corps comes from the Keyes novels. Considering that this covers the time frame of late 2263 - early 2265, I suppose everything is a potential spoiler (though, it would be one INCREDIBLY lucky guess). And thanks to my eagle-eyes, better known as Sharon and Sarah! Virtual boxes of Godivas to both of you! > > > > > > > > > > April 4, 2264 Alone in the darkened conference room, Alina stared at the text on the portable display. A small table lamp teamed with the display's tiny screen to give her what little illumination they could manage. It was enough for her needs. She turned on the audio recorder as she struggled with the text. A part of her wished Delenn had sent a translation. Reading the intellectual meanderings of a Valerian priestess written 400 years before Alina had even been born was difficult enough. Translating them from the original, centuries-outdated dialect was proving to be a Herculean task in itself. So much was open to interpretation, even to someone who had spent years in a Minbari temple studying ancient religious texts. *At least those texts had been translated since the human race developed space travel,* she thought, flipping to the next section. This stupid file was going to slowly drive her insane. "Pon'sha," she mused into the microphone. "Well, it's either 'death of the soul' or the Minbari equivalent of sexual pleasure." She pondered the options. " 'Death of the soul' it is." Paragraph after paragraph the translation grew more difficult. The only thing she had to assist her was Delenn's assurance that the text was about the passing of a Minbari soul into the collective. It was little help. "What are you still doing up?" Switching off the recorder, she turned to find Andrew Keene standing in the corridor. From the somewhat rumpled look of him, he was just as tired as she felt. "I could ask you the same question," she replied. With a gesture toward the chair nearest her, she added, "I was just thinking of making some caff. It's instant, but you're welcome to join me." With a yawn, he slid into the proffered chair. "Sounds good. I was just working on that idea for the bloodhound watch. You've put together an odd group there, Alina." "Blame the Minbari," she replied with a smile. "They're the ones who concocted the details. Every person we saw fits one of the requirements to perfection." One hand over hers, he stopped her as she rose to get hot water for the caff. "That's important to you, isn't it?" "What is?" "Perfection. Everything has to be perfect for you; what you do, who you are." Her dark brow furrowed. "What is *that* supposed to mean?" "Nothing," he quickly replied. "It's just that there are times when I think you might be . . . a little too perfect, that's all. You said it yourself, the Vorlons couldn't program you. What did they call you? 'Beauty in the dark'? You were stable, the altered telepaths weren't. Did you ever stop to consider that you might have been the ideal result of their little experiments?" Alina's lips opened to protest, but it took time for her to find the words. When she did, they were not the words she had expected. "You're right. I suppose I am rather fussy about things being in order." "Fussy? You call taking almost two full weeks to go over the files on those few people we ended up with fussy?" "I was trained to heal people, Andrew," she stated. "Mistakes are not part of the plan. People die if I make a mistake. And the Vorlons *never* experimented on me. Don't forget that." Pulling her hand from his, she slowly walked over to the small recess in the wall that held the hot water kettle. Ideas were free-flowing through her mind. What *had* the Vorlons thought of her? She had always deemed her position with them a 'clean-up crew' post, simply because of the nature of the job. Cleaning up after an ancient race was hardly grounds to be considered perfection. And what about her abilities? Just because she had such unusual abilities hardly meant it did not do her damage to use them. Had the night spent in the Infirmary after saving Kelly's life shown him nothing? She had long since lost count of the number of nights she had spent in hospitals on both Arisia and Minbar. "I'm sorry. I know they didn't do anything to you. But Alina, people are going to die if you push yourself too hard on this. You can't be planning these raids and working on the Circle. You're exhausting yourself again. I don't know about you, but I start making mistakes if I get too tired. What if we waited on the Circle until after the fighting is over? Your friend is in cryo. He's got all the time in the world." Pouring the water into her mug, she shook her head. "He does, but Susan doesn't. We can't wait. You don't understand, Andrew. It's his life energy that's keeping her alive. Her personality is functional, at least according to Lyta and Mister Garibaldi. But that telepathic signature . . . ." "Your friend?" "Yes. If we wait too long to separate them, we may not be able to. I saw this before when I was on Minbar. One of the telepaths I knew when I was first brought to Minbar ended up transporting the Vorlon ambassador after their shuttle was damaged in an accident. They were stranded in space for a few days. After their ship was recovered, they were brought into the hospital where I was doing my medical training. He wasn't responding verbally, so I had to make contact with him as I was working, make sure he understood what was happening. What I picked up was more Vorlon than Minbari." She could see the light beginning to dawn in his eyes. "They were mixing." "Yes." "I take it you were able to separate them?" The memories of one poor telepath's final days of freedom replayed in her mind; the fear, the chaos, the terror that had all but consumed the small Valerian temple where she had lived. No one would believe that a Minbari could behave in such a manner, let alone that a Minbari could and would kill anyone who crossed his path. The memory of the peaceful creature that the telepath had been before the accident was still fresh in her mind. The idea that a Vorlon could have caused such a change, it was simply unbelievable to the Minbari. To her it had simply been another example of their callousness toward the younger races. After a long sip of the caff, she replied, "No. I tried everything I could think of, even if it was just a theory. He was never properly prepared to carry a Vorlon, Andrew. Nothing would help him. The Vorlons wouldn't lift a finger. Surprised me considering how protective they were of their own. The Grey Council ordered him sequestered in the temples. They demanded that he avoid contact with any living being. He couldn't keep his emotions in check. There were bursts of homicidal mania. He very nearly killed three acolytes for simply trying to bring him food. When he spoke, it was nothing anyone could understand. By human standards, he'd gone completely mad." Andrew's jaw dropped. "And you're saying if we don't separate Ivanova and your friend the same thing might happen to them?" She looked down at the spoon as it swirled in the mug of hot caff. "Speaking as a healer, that's my opinion, yes. Though, considering that it would be two humans, I doubt if Susan would become homicidal. The influence isn't quite so alien." "When it rains, it pours." "Pardon?" she asked, raising her gaze. He quickly shook his head. "Nothing." "No," she softly said, sinking back into her chair, "I think I understand. First you find out about Lyta, now this. I'm sorry, Andrew. I-" "Wanted everything to turn out differently?" he gently teased. "Why am I not surprised?" A blush slowly crept onto her features. "Go to bed. You need sleep, and I need more work on this. Delenn thinks it might be important." He watched her for a long moment. "All right," he relented. Leaning across the table, he caught her gaze. "Just promise me one thing?" "What?" "You won't push yourself too hard. Put Syria Planum first. Right now, that's the most important thing. Surely Ivanova can wait until we get this raid over with. It's only a few weeks." She gave him a soft smile. "You're worried I'll make a mistake in planning the raid, aren't you?" He slowly nodded. "I can't lie to you. Yes." "I know it's no good telling you this, but I'm doing my best on all fronts. Syria Planum will get all of the attention it deserves. I promise you, it will be the best plan I can come up with." He slowly rose from the chair. "Will you do me a favor?" "Of course." "Let us look it over before we decide to go with it. If everyone agrees it's sound, we go?" "I was planning on that, anyway." With a nod, he turned toward the corridor. "Andrew?" she asked, stopping him before he could leave. "Yes?" "I know you're worried, but you *can* trust me." A slow smile crept onto his features. "Good night, Alina." End Part 15 of ?