From ravensteel@usa.pipeline.com Sun Aug 4 01:11:13 1996 Date: Fri, 5 Jul 1996 21:09:09 GMT From: Les McBride Reply-To: b5-creative@lists.best.com To: b5-creative@lists.best.com Subject: New Story: "Requiem" Part 1 (David and Al) Here we go with part 1 of "Requiem". It takes place a few years after "Quest". Doesn't really require Kleenex, but some of it hurts. Comments, please. Setting, technology, and some of the characters belong to J. Michael Strazinsky and Babylonian Productions, and will be surrendered to the upon request. Everything else is MINE. ***** "Requiem" Part 1 by Leslie C. McBride ***** He looked at the paper in front of him, tapped his pen on it. Then he looked up, frowning. Had he forgotten something? Finally he threw his pen down and scrubbed at his face. "You too?" He squinted at David, who had suddenly appeared. "Oh, just can't concentrate. This isn't working out right, and I don't know if it's that I've forgotten something or what?" "I'm having the same problem. Almost like something is hovering at the edge of my mind, and buzzes when I'm trying to finish a thought." Al stared at the wall. "They're waiting for us. For what, I dunno. But they're there." "Yeah." Then he shook his head. "What's not coming out right?" "Oh, I'm trying to make a record. There's...." He stopped to count quickly. "About six years I can't account for at all, after the War. Did he tell me and I just forgot, or was it one of the `couldn't's?" He leaned back in his chair, and didn't say anything for a long time. "Used t'be I didn't care, much. I had Dad, and it was enough. But lately, there's been this little voice telling me that I need to know, need to find out. It's gotten louder. I can't ignore it much longer." He sighed. "Another voice has started now, but I can't quite make out what it's saying." Shaking his head, he looked at David. "Do you know much of what happened after we destroyed Z'Ha'Dum?" David had sat down in the other chair -- when? His eyes were distant. "Not much. I asked, once...." "I know, some. After our assault on Z'Ha'Dum, the remaining Shadows went apesh...." He ducked, looking around. "Sorry. The last time I said that, Dad... well." He flushed. "They went berserk. Attacking ships, massacres. That's why Sol has *two* asteroid belts now. That's when they planted a lot of the Keepers. They also got a lot of innocent people -- people who wouldn't normally even dream of doing this -- to agree to help by promising that... what they were most afraid of happening would never happen if they joined the Darkness. And that was, of course, usually the first thing the Shadows went and did, once they had their loyalty fixed." He let out a long, shuddering breath. "Then the last thing anyone had expected, the worst thing anyone could imagine, happened. The Shadows caught one of the Conspirators." "What?!" David had never heard this before. "This was the best thing that could've happened for the Shadows. They weren't interested in information: they wanted to trap him, then send him back, to ruin everything. But they couldn't. There was nothing they could show him that would make him join them. Nothing was worth that." The sick feeling in his stomach had come back. He tried to swallow. "They didn't kill him. They threw him aside with the intents of trying again later. Maybe time would soften him up. That was their only mistake." The tightness wouldn't let him breathe, and it was several minutes before he could continue. "After... after, he had to leave. Needed time to heal. He wouldn't get it if he'd stayed, not nearly enough. He would've died slowly, and there'd be no way to stop it. It ended without him." "Valen's name," David breathed. "I never knew, wasn't...." He took a deep breath, held it while thinking. "I knew something had happened, knew Father wouldn't speak to him for years." He looked away. "Sometimes Father wouldn't let himself see the truth, I'm afraid. Too stubborn...." Shuddering, Al dragged himself away from those images burned forever inside his head. He shook it. "There's no such thing as too stubborn. That's the only thing that brought us through the War: good, old-fashioned Human pig-headedness." He scrubbed at his face. "After he left are the years I can't account for. I know that's when he married Mom, but...." He shrugged futilely. "So. Where do we start?" Al frowned. Sometimes.... "What?" "I said, `Where do we start'? You helped me look for my mother, now it's only fair that I help look for yours. Did *any*one know?" "Stephen did. He's the only one I know for sure." "I think Mother figured it out, but I don't know if she ever told Father. If she knew, _Tal_ Lennier did also." "Ah, they wouldn't've told me anyway. I have to discover it on my own." He thought a moment. "We'll start by going to see Jimmy. Maybe he knows... I dunno. But that's the best place to start. We'll have to go quietly." He looked squarely at David. "This won't be like your quest. They're waiting for us. Once they realize we're gone, they'll only be two steps behind us, if we're lucky. We both have responsibilities. I'd rather one of us stayed." He folded his arms defiantly. "Never. It'll be worse if you go alone." He stopped, remembering. His voice softened. "I came so close to following Mother. *This* is why I didn't. Maybe I will, one day." Al nodded once. "I would've gone with you then. I think I still would. Oh, well. They've never once managed to keep us apart yet." They laughed, shook on it. They were still young, and each had a double helping of courage. Let the Universe do it's worst! Then Al's smile faded. "Promises. Nuts. You go get ready. I have a letter to write." ***** They were trying to sneak out. The Satai and the General leaving would be noticed, and they wanted to put that off as long as possible. They heard a familiar throat-clearing behind them. Al hit his head against the corner they had been about to round. "Bugger!" He hadn't learned that one from Dad. "And just where did you two think you were going?" They grinned sheepishly at each other before turning. They'd tried to sneak out once when they were twelve. They had gotten caught then, too. Ranger One was tapping his foot at them. "Um, well, Al wanted to go home." "Why?" "Ah, uh, I, uh, need to find something out." "Having to do with parents, friends, Shadows. Am I right?" They looked at each other, confused. "Oh, you've not been the only ones to feel it. They have turned their eye here, and specifically to you." "Then, you know why we have to go." "Of course. I just didn't want you to have to do it alone." He gestured ahead. "What are you waiting for?" Shrugging at each other, they went. ***** "What *specifically* are you looking for?" "My mother. I have to know, and it has to be now, in case...." Shrugging, Al shook his head. "But... I thought...." Ra... Marcus furrowed his brow. It was still hard not to think of him by his title, even now. "My dream? I've never been able to see the name clearly. The most I've ever been able to make out is the letter "A". Not at the beginning. Narrows it down a lot." He grinned wryly. "Would a member of the Independent Telepaths' Association be able to help?" He snorted. "No way to tell if it'd be one of Bester's until it was too late. Unless you know one in particular?" "No, not really." "Too dangerous, then. I have to rely on plain old detective work. Who better?" ***** An older man was sweeping up when the door opened. He looked up do see someone in a Minbari traveling cloak with the hood up. "I'm sorry, the restaurant's closed," he called. "I was hoping the kitchen might still be open." Grinning, Al threw the hood back. "Well, I'll be. Angela!" he called as he walked over to him. "Get out here, quick." A tallish woman with greying hair came out of the kitchen drying her hands. "Jimmy? What's wrong?" Then she saw Al. "You get over here and give me a hug this instant." Ducking his head, he did. To her, he was still the same motherless boy she had met twenty years ago when she'd married Jimmy. "Let me look at you. Are you eating enough?" "Yes, ma'am. I apologize for not keeping in touch more, but...." Jimmy nodded his head. "We understand. We've heard you've been quite busy." "Yes, sir." "Have you had dinner yet?" "No, ma'am, but I don't have time. I needed to stop for a minute and ask.... Have you found anything of my father's since I was here last?" They gave each other and odd look. "Funny you should ask that," Jimmy answered. Al raised an eyebrow. "Just yesterday, I found a box under one of the stairs when I was fixing it. Third from the top." He laughed. Dad had complained loudly about that very same step for years without ever doing anything about it. "What was in it?" "Dunno. It's got a voice-lock on it. Angela, can you get it?" Smiling, she went into the office. "Anything else?" Jimmy shook his head. "I all but tore the place apart looking for anything else before calling you, to make sure you wouldn't have to make a second trip." She came back with an oblong metal box. From the way she was holding it, it was heavier than it appeared. He bowed graciously as he took it. "Thank you both. I wish I had time...." The door opened again. Al nodded that it was all right. Marcus came in quickly, bowed a little to the couple, then spoke to Al. "They're coming." He exhaled noisily, angrily. He thought a number of curses Dad would've washed his mouth out for, but didn't chose any of them: they weren't strong enough. He turned back to Jimmy and Angela. "I've put you in terrible danger by coming here. I didn't... I'm sorry. We're gonna have to get you out. Now." "But..." "If it's safe, you can come back. Don't worry about it. Go wake the boys, and pack everything you have to have. Hurry! We've still got some time." He activated his link, patched into their planetary network. "This is a code 3R, repeat, a code 3R, agent AMG. Transfer me to the Travel Division." "Y... yes, sir," the operator stammered. A click, then: "Travel. Agent and password for voiceprint." "This is agent AMG, password V17L98." "ID confirmed, go ahead." "Code 3R. Pickup required, four and one. Escort them home, all speed." "Position confirmed. Escort en route." He changed frequencies. "David. Heat em up!" "Roger that." He looked at Marcus, stricken. "I'm gonna get someone killed." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Leslie C. McBride ravensteel@usa.pipeline.com ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Because peace is sometimes another word for surrender. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From ravensteel@usa.pipeline.com Sun Aug 4 01:22:21 1996 Date: Tue, 9 Jul 1996 05:34:52 GMT From: Les McBride Reply-To: b5-creative@lists.best.com To: b5-creative@lists.best.com Subject: "Requiem", Part 2 All right, finally, here's part 2. A Part 3 is still forthcoming. Standard disclaimers, and RFC. *********** Requiem Part 2 by Leslie C. McBride They bowed deeply to the Minbari. Draal laughed. "I think I'm starting to like surprises. How can I help you?" "Sir," Al said, "I need to search the records." "Done. What else?" "A... safe place for a few days. They are after us, and I need time to do something." "Fine. When you are finished, I will tell you what you need to do. But not until then." ***** "Open." "Unable to comply. Password required." "Peek-a-boo." "Password incorrect." He frowned. "Eldwin." "Password..." "Yeah, yeah, I know. Michael." "Password incomplete." "Incomplete? Michael Garibaldi." "Password incomplete." "Michael Alfredo Garibaldi." "Password incorrect." He chewed his lower lip momentarily. "Alfredo Michael Garibaldi." There was a small click. "Password correct. Message transmitted." "Message? What message?" "Unable to comply." He sighed in exasperation and raised the lid. "I always knew you'd take the name." Al jumped. "D... Dad?" "Nah, just a recording. But I thought that at this point you might be missing your old man just a little." Bewildered, he shook his head. "First things first: Al, I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you. That look in your eyes when you would ask about your mother was almost more than I could bear." "Dad, it's okay," he couldn't help but answer. The recording had paused, briefly. "I've posted you a letter, and I've been to see John, so now there's only one thing left. It's all here, on paper. Everything I never told you, for one reason or another, and stuff I don't ever want you to forget. I hope you'll understand why I didn't tell you. The message was sent to your mother, so she knows. Good-bye, Al. You were the best thing that ever happened to me." After several deep breaths, he started reading. His father's words took him back through time. He could see it all so clearly in his head. ***** Chairs. That was one of the hardest things he had to readjust to. He finally settled for drawing his knees up to his chest, one arm flung around them so he wouldn't fall out. And waited, head down. The other hand was laid gently on top of one of hers. She stirred slightly. He looked up, hoping beyond hope... ... Just in time to see two eyelids flicker, then open. "Wha...? Where...?" His heart tried to leap inside him, but the best he could muster was a tired smile and patting her hand lightly before removing his. "Shh. You're safe." She squinted at him. "Michael? Wha happened?" He hugged his knees tightly. "Head trauma. At first, Stephen didn't know if he could even save you, then if there was too much damage for you to wake up." "How long?" "Three, four weeks." The fogginess seemed to clear, mostly. She swallowed. "Have you been sitting here all this time?" He shrugged. "Nothin better t'do." Frowning, she shook her head. "It's... all so fuzzy. Can't remember...." Sighing, he heaved himself out of the chair and moved slowly over to the window. "I couldn't tell you what happened." He put his hands in his pockets and looked out. She shook her head again. He shouldn't be here: he should be out fighting. "Michael, what...." She truly looked at him, instead of glancing in his direction and seeing a photograph in her mind, like most people do. His clothes hung off him like they were four sizes too big. His pallor spoke of being away from light -- any light -- for many months. The one eye she could see clearly was sunk deep into his skull. She couldn't recall something happening to him. What she did remember were pictures. From history. Reminders of a war long past. "Michael. What happened?" "You don't remember?" Mutely, she shook her head. He looked at her squarely. "They caught me." "The Centauri? EarthGov?" Straws. "Shadows." ***** A few days later they were sitting under a tree. It was amazing how much like Earth this place appeared. Comforting and saddening at the same time. She had been allowed to start getting up for short periods a day, with one injunction: to listen. "Maybe he'll talk to you," Stephen had said. "He isn't to anyone else. Isn't saying much at all." He was talking. Hugging his knees, rocking slightly, gaze turned inward, he told her of everything the Shadows had promised, if he would only help them just once. "Nothing in the universe was worth that. But there was one... one that I promised myself I'd do everything in my power to prevent if I ever got out. I buried that promise down deep, next to the one thing they never discovered. I love you. I have for a long time. You know I notice things, put things together. This... I didn't want to interfere, so I pushed it down, so far that sometimes I could almost forget.... Now all my reasons seem like so much spacedust." She sat silent. No one had told her that for so long. She didn't know how to react. Looked at him, through him, saw that his incarceration had burned away all the layers he had built around himself for so many years, leaving only loyalty, friendship, love. But something dear was gone as well, part of what had made him her friend. She decided then and there to do anything she could to retrieve it. He was talking again, and she'd missed part of it. "... If I stay, I'll get caught back up in it before I'm healed. I'll die, a little at a time, with nothing anyone could do for me. But I'm afraid to go alone, afraid of what I'd do when...." He swallowed hard. She thought. "You're right -- about staying. Something always precludes our own health. We'd end up being more liabilities than assets." He put his head down. Everything wore him out now, even talking. "We ought to go soon, before we get pushed back into service." He looked at her sharply. ***** They went quietly. Only Stephen knew, and he provided them with travel papers under new names so they wouldn't be immediately recognized. Michael pushed it back down, and concentrated on being a gentleman and a friend. ***** She growled. Another snarl. A rap on the doorframe. "Hey..." "What?" she snapped. He held up both hands. "Easy. I just wanted to see what you wanted for breakfast." He looked at her appraisingly. "Okay. Hand it over." "What?" Now she was confused. "I said hand it over. I'll do it, and you tell your Uncle Mike what's wrong." He gently started working the snarl out. She tried to calm herself, planning her words so they wouldn't come out sounding hysterical. When it became obvious she was stalling, he started talking, hoping to encourage her. "Nightmare, eh? They make you feel so alone, even when you're not. When you were having so many, back on the station, we all were. It's hard to talk about them, to remember the fear." "What are yours about?" "Used t'be a lot of screaming at the top of my lungs and no one listening, or reliving my timeflash. Yours?" "A classic one: something's chasing me. I'm running, I don't know where I am, I don't know what's after me." She took a deep breath. "It's nice to know I'm not alone. Thank you." He nodded once, but didn't smile. She wanted very much to see it. "What do you want to eat?" ***** She woke up in the middle of the night. Had she heard something? She got up to investigate. He was lying in floor, curled into a tight ball, whimpering. When she touched him, his eyes flew open, and the terror in his eyes made her gasp. But he was still asleep, and she didn't dare wake him. She held him until he passed into a calmer dream. ***** When she said she loved him, he felt ten feet tall. It didn't matter why she said it. When she suggested that neither of them had to be alone anymore, he never remembered being happier. He was incoherent for a few minutes. Then: "I can't think about facing my mother and not being able to tell her I did it right." "Me, neither. Though mine would complain about you at first: `dirty, smelly, Catholic Italian'." He might have smiled a little. "I'm not Catholic." He touched her hand tenatively. "Not forever. I don't think I believe in forever anymore. But for now. You're always free to go if you need to." ***** She knew her job was nearly done the first time he said to her "Trust me: you'll love it" about one of his vids, a flash of the old light in his eye. (Never mind that she actually *had*. Something about "everyone comes to Rick's".) What surprised her was that she had no inclination to leave. ***** "Go! Now!" he yelled at her. He couldn't bear the thought of them catching her. They were coming closer. "Come and get me! I'm the one you want!" he screamed at them, then added something obscene. She dragged him off at the last second. ***** It was time. She hadn't said anything, but he could feel it. "You need to go back." "But, I..." "It's time for you to go back. There's things you need to do still. They need you." "What about you?" "I'm tired of doings. I'm just interested in being now. All I ask is a month for you to help me find a place where I can open a restaurant. A place you can always call home." ***** In fact, she stayed a year, and at the end of it was Al. The best moment in his entire life was holding the both of them. ***** Stephen sat down quietly. Michael barely looked up. "She's gone." He sighed. "I don't know what I would've done if she hadn't come with me." Stephen just looked at him. "Aw, hell, that's a lie. We both know what I would've done, and there would've been no one to stop me." The other man shook his head. "Will you be all right?" He looked towards the other room. "I have to be." ***** Delenn came several months later, at night. Alone. She didn't say much, but spent a long time looking at Al, sleeping peacefully, then looked at Michael very hard. Finally, she smiled sadly and turned to go. "Wait. Delenn." She turned back. "I know... the way things are going. If you ever need a place for David...." She nodded, then bowed. He watched Al for a long time himself before going to bed. *She* had known there was one more bit of "doings" left in him. ***** "Dad? Dad, wake up." "Hunh?" "Dad, dad, dad dad dad dad, dad, dad. Dad!" ***** He looked around. Something didn't feel right. "Boys, get inside." "Yes, sir." Al nudged the other one. "David, c'mon." "In a minute." He hadn't yet learned Rule Number One. "David," Michael rumbled. "Okay, just let me..." Al, already husky at eight grabbed the slighter boy by the belt and half-carried him inside. "Ya gotta learn: don't mess with Dad..." ***** "Dad? Are you all right?" He looked up. At sixteen, it was quite obvious Al had been cursed by an unfair supply of Garibaldi genes. He was coming down the stairs, looking concerned. "Bah. I had a dream, and decided not to go back to sleep for a while. I came down here to think. What're you doing up?" He shrugged, looked away. "D'you wanna talk about it?" "The dream? No, I'd rather not." Al started to fix some coffee. "Then tell me what you're thinking about." They stayed up the whole night, talking about the War, the first time they'd really done it. ***** He was so proud, looking at Al, tall and straight in his Alliance uniform. This was the culmination of years, something he could look at and say "I had a hand in this, this good thing". For his part, Al was grinning like he was fit to bust, even though it was very unmilitarylike. But he had graduated from Basic Training, and Dad was happy. One of Dad's old friends had even come. ***** "Dad?" "Yeah, Al?" Al puttered around, making dinner. Michael could read the "if I tell Dad he'll kill me, if I don't tell him and he finds out he'll kill me" look and held his peace. "Dad, I, um... I decided not to reenlist." Then the words came tumbling out, as if he were afraid of being stopped without his reasons being clear. "I know you wanted me to join, and I appreciate what I've learned there, but it's not what I'm meant to do." "So what are you going to do?" he asked mildly. He exhaled. "I had intended to come back here and help you." "But?" Dad knew him too well. "But Ranger One came to me, telling me about a new post. The way things are now, the truth about the War will be forgotten. Quickly. There can't be any computer records, and most of the kids aren't hearing anything about it. Many people, all the races, learning the stories and repeating them. Nothing, no one will be forgotten. I was the first volunteer." "I suppose David was second." He grinned. "I hope you understand. I think this is my calling." "Everyone serves the Light best as they can. If this is right, do it." "Thanks." He checked on the food. As he watched him, Michael could see more of his mother than anyone else ever did, down deep. His laugh, sometimes. He moved with her grace. He smiled sadly. "Dad, everyone from the War will have one person to remember them when they're gone. I'd be honored if you'd allow me to Remember you." He didn't fight the stinging in his eyes. "Then I'd best start talking." ***** The General rounded the corner into his office and stopped. There, like it was forty years ago or more, was Michael Garibaldi. Feet on the desk. He felt the old anger rise up inside him. Wearily, he pushed it back down. He knew now that most of it was at himself for not understanding. "Mister Garibaldi." He grinned at him. "Mornin, Cap'n." "Get the hell out of my chair." He did, then found the same position in the other chair. The grin was gone, though. "I needed to talk to you again, one more time." He sank into his chair. "Thank you. I've wanted to apologize for.... I didn't understand. And I should have. Delenn, Stephen... they all tried to explain. I wish.... I wish a lot of things." "Me, too. We've both had a long life, piled up a lot of regrets. I wish I had come here sooner." "I wish we had raised our sons together. In peace." "Well, *that* wasn't gonna happen, not for you. And if I hadn't left, there would've been no Al. He's the best thing that ever happened to me, outside of his mother." He looked at the wall. "Eight years, John. Eight years of heaven, then she left me Al." "I envy you. Delenn and I had a few years like that, then...." He shook his head. "But you have your memories. That can get you through a lot. And you have David." "David, yes. I look at him, and I see her again, when we were young. Do you know, except for two things, I wouldn't change anything?" "Yeah. I wouldn't trade a moment of it, not even the nights I stayed awake watching for...." He shrugged. "HomeGuard, Shadows, whatever. I look at him, and it was all worth it." They talked like that for hours. When their shadows began to lengthen they finally wound down. John eased his back. "I know why you came. I've started doing it myself." He nodded. "After I leave here, I'm going to see her, then going home to record one more thing for Al. The First Speaker needs complete information. Then I'll be done. I doubt I'll last to the Anniversary. They took years off my life." His eyes were bleak as he continued. "My hardest thing has been trying to find a successor. David, unfortunately, isn't suited for it. He could in a pinch, but.... I still wanted to keep it among us." He looked squarely at Michael. "Al will be the next General. I wanted you to know, in case you don't ever see it." Closing his eyes, he smiled. There was nothing he could say. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Leslie C. McBride ravensteel@usa.pipeline.com ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Because peace is sometimes another word for surrender. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From ravensteel@usa.pipeline.com Sun Aug 4 01:22:23 1996 Date: Tue, 9 Jul 1996 17:41:39 GMT From: Les McBride Reply-To: b5-creative@lists.best.com To: b5-creative@lists.best.com Subject: "Requiem" Part 3 There. It's done, finally. I hope y'all've enjoyed it. There may still be some Al and David stories left in me, but not for a while yet. Feel free to ask any questions you have about this universe, or let me know if you'd like to play in it a bit. My focus is obvious, but those aren't the only stories there. Standard disclaimers, and RFC. ***** "Requiem" Part 3 by Leslie C. McBride ***** "Take a pilot, someone you can trust, and go. Away from stars, away from planets, and wait. This last fight is for who will rule the galaxy for the next thousand years, but it will not be won by force of arms." David shook his head. "But then how...?" "It will be a test of wills, yours against theirs. If you succeed, the galaxy will know peace." Al only smiled: he knew just who to ask. ***** "Zack?" "Chief?" He shook his head. "Al? What's up?" He motioned him aside. "I've got a favor to ask. A huge one." "Anything." "You can fly, right?" "I'm no fighter pilot." "No, nothing like that. Just an average light courier. We need someone we can trust." "Well, sure. I'll do it...." Looking up, he trailed off. A Vorlon was approaching them. His thin face creased with worry, David came up next to Al. They stood together as the ambassador appeared to scrutinize them. Finally, it's voder began to sing. "You are ready." It turned and glided away. ***** Zack couldn't ever explain what really happened. They all braced themselves - Marcus in an acceleration couch, David cross-legged on the floor, Al leaning against the wall -- and closed their eyes. A Shadow ship was next to theirs, not doing anything. Hours later, the other ship left quickly. They sagged, exhausted. David and Marcus fell asleep immediately. Al opened his eyes for a minute as he slid down the wall. "Take us home, Zack." Then he was asleep too. ***** They were still bone tired when they arrived on Isil'Zha. They assumed that since they were still alive they had won. A young Narn worked her way through the crowd towards them. She bowed quickly. "First Speaker!" He bowed in return. "First Speaker, they wanted me to tell you when you returned. The Vorlons, sir! They're all gone." Frowning, he asked, "Gone? Gone where?" She gestured helplessly. "No one knows. A few of their ships were seen going Out, but...." Al looked at David. "Looks like we're on our own now." As the crowd began asking questions, he slipped away, leaving the Satai to handle them. He had something to do. ***** She put her pen down when he came in. "So you know." He sat across form her, leaned forward. "I know. And I *understand*. I wouldn't've before." He hesitated. "There's one thing he never knew for sure. Did you love him, or did you stay just so he would heal." She looked at her hands. "I loved him. More than I ever thought possible." He took one of her hands between both of his. "Tell me everything." She smiled. "I met your father in 2257, when I was posted to Babylon5. I had no idea at the time that I was about to make the two best friends I've ever had...." [End] ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Leslie C. McBride ravensteel@usa.pipeline.com ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Because peace is sometimes another word for surrender. -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------