From angelt@primenet.com Fri May 10 20:18:19 1996 Date: Fri, 26 Apr 1996 13:40:18 -0700 (MST) From: Angel Trinkle Reply-To: b5-creative@lists1.best.com To: b5-creative@lists1.best.com Subject: Runaways pt 1 This is the first long story I've finished. (Okay, I haven't QUITE finished, but close enough to start sending it.) Much thanks to my helpful beta readers, who made useful suggestions and nitpicks, and to JMS, without whom I'd have to find another obsession. All characters copyright PTEN, except for Mina, Lex, Caldwell, Duchess, and Davis. Yours in the Light, Angel -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- |Angel Trinkle Nobody expects the Psi Corps Inquisition! | |angelt@primenet.com Amongst our weaponry are such diverse | |Keeper of the elements as: fear, surprise, ruthless | |Anna Sheridan Flame efficiency, an almost fanatical devotion | |Phoenix Phan to the Corps, and nice black uniforms. | |Proprietress, Curious Goods --If Bester were British | |Insert virtual blue ribbon to protest censorship on the net & everywhere.| =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Runaways pt 1 Mina handed the merchant her credchit. He returned it a moment later with a smile. "Have a nice day, Elizabeth." "You, too, Ch'lon." She turned away, elbowing her way through the late-afternoon Zocalo crowds. Darkness. The darkness of an alien world, a terrifying mind, a being that embodied evil, not ten feet away.... She stepped back, opened her eyes without really grasping that she'd had them closed, and saw... nothing. Nothing out of the ordinary, at any rate. part of her mind gibbered. "It isn't there," she told herself firmly. "You didn't see it. No one else saw it. If no one sees it, that means nothing's there. When you close your eyes again, it will be gone." She closed her eyes, scanning the area carefully. She drew in her breath sharply, opening her eyes. "Okay, maybe not. But there's nothing there. You can't sense something that isn't there. You're under a lot of stress. You're sensing things. And not only are you sensing things, you're talking to yourself. In public. In the Zocalo. Out loud." "People are going to think you're crazy," observed a richly accented male voice directly behind her. "How would you know?" she asked without turning. "I'm not the one talking to strangers in the Zocalo." "No, you're the one talking to yourself in the Zocalo. About something that isn't there." "True," she conceded. "So what does it look like?" "Darkness," she said. "A shape in the darkness." "Terribly poetic." "Occasionally." She glanced behind her. He was long-haired and bearded, dressed too nicely to be a Lurker but not genteely enough to be a businessman. An odd silver brooch was fastened prominently to his tunic. "Do you see it?" "Unfortunately, no. But then, I'm not a telepath." Inwardly, Mina froze. Her mind screamed at her to get *out* of there, to get *away* from this stranger who had figured her out far too quickly. Outwardly, she gave the man a dazzlingly innocent smile and said, "I-- don't know what you're talking about." "Of course you do. You see, only telepaths can see Shadows. You can see it, therefore you must be a telepath. How long have you been rogue?" Finally, and with unexpected force, Mina's training and instincts kicked in. "Get away from me!" she shrieked, slamming home a solid punch to his stomach. The stranger doubled over, retching, and Mina stumbled through the crowd that parted in her wake. "Are you all right, ma'am?" a woman in a security uniform asked, catching hold of her arm. "Yes, I- I'm fine, now," she stuttered in not-very feigned reaction, projecting harmlessness. "H-h-he--" she shuddered. "Did he injure you?" "N-not physically, no; I-- stopped him. I-I'm all right, really." "Do you want to press charges?" she asked, glancing over to where some of her comrades were taking the stranger into custody. "N-no." "Are you *sure*?" "I'm sure. He-- didn't do anything." Mina gave her a weak smile. "They don't punish people for intentions very often." "Unfortunately. There are some real sickos out there." "Yes. I'll be all right. I think I'm going to go home and lie down." "You do that." The security woman released her with a smile, then turned to help the other officers pick the stranger up off the floor. *** Checking her purchases to ensure none had been crushed or broken, Mina hurried away from the crowds and into the upper level of DownBelow that housed the single room she shared with her young daughter. Lex looked up expectantly as she opened the door. She was sitting cross-legged on the bed, brushing Emily's hair. "Hi, Mommy." "Hi, hon. How are you doing?" "Okay. Will you braid Emily's hair for me?" "All right," she smiled, putting the groceries down on the dingy table and sitting on the bed, which creaked ominously. Lex handed her the doll and her brush, saying, "I tried to do it myself, but I couldn't get it right. Will you show me again, Mommy?" "Sure." She demonstrated the braid again, first on Emily, then by taking down her own waist-length blonde hair and rebraiding it. Mina left her daughter practicing while she fixed dinner, far too often having to answer her curious child's questions with, "I don't know, honey." After dinner, she tucked Lex into bed and curled up beside her, waiting until her thoughts settled into sleep before she gave into her own misery and noiselessly sobbed out her loneliness into the uncaring pillows. <`When will we see Daddy again?' she asks. `I don't know,' I tell her. Please, God, will we *ever* see her Daddy again?> Cried out, she gradually fell asleep herself, and into dreams of where they'd come from and why they'd ended up in this tiny room in a mostly neglected part of Babylon 5. *** "All right, Caldwell, what was so important that you couldn't tell me over com channels?" Mina chirped as she bounced into her best friend's home office. "Sit down, kitten," he said softly. She perched on the edge of the couch. Duchess padded up and put her head on Mina's knee, looking up at her with wide brown eyes. Sobering, she stared through the dog's eyes and into Caldwell's mind, suddenly filled with dread. "Frank-- what's wrong?" "Rumors have been flying fast and thick the last couple of days," he said slowly and carefully. "I was hoping that that was all it was; rumors. I was hoping that it would just blow over. But it didn't. It just got worse." "What are you talking about?" she asked, terrified without knowing why. It took a great deal to worry Caldwell, normally the epitome of calm. The fear leaking from the edges of his shields betrayed a terrible wrongness. "Al has been speaking out against the Corps'-- allies-- again, hasn't he?" "I'm-- not sure. I think so. I know he disapproves of them. He hasn't been public about it, but he told me when I talked to him last that he had appointments with a number of people to see if he could talk sense into them." "Well, apparently they didn't like his arguments. They want him." She managed a strangled chuckle, not wanting to understand. "Caldwell, you're not making any sense. They have him." He shook his head, and Duchess whined. "Right now, they don't. He's away on assignment, thank God." "What are you talking about?" she demanded again, voice breaking in hysteria. "What do they want him for?" "Mina," he said softly, slowly, "they want him dead." All the blood drained from her face. "Dead?" She shook her head, as if to clear it. "What?" "Maybe you haven't seen it, but the Corps, like everyone else, has been cracking down on dissent-- of any sort-- recently. I don't know how long the Corps has had these allies , but it's a long time. When someone as well-known and well-respected as Al starts speaking out against them, it goes against the united front the Corps wants to project." "But-- why now? He's been speaking out against them for years; why-- this-- all of a sudden?" "If I had to hazard a guess-- he's found out something he shouldn't. Something dangerous. Something they don't want made public. Something they don't want anyone knowing badly enough to issue a warrant for his arrest." Duchess' eyes bored into her. "Something they don't want you knowing badly enough to spread around a private and unofficial dead-or-alive on him." Mina closed her eyes. echoed mockingly in her mind. "How could they do this to us? After all the work we've put in-- after all our years of loyalty-- how could they *do* this to us?" Caldwell sat down next to her, put his arms around her. "I don't know, kitten. But there are no doubts. The indictment is coming down tomorrow, with charges ranging from crossing his eyes at old ladies to devouring live babies. They're calling for his head. And all the people the two of you pissed off over the years are quite eager to help bring it in." "It isn't right-- it isn't *fair.*" He chuckled, gently. "You sound like Lex, my love. No, it isn't fair. But they're Psi Corps. They can do what they like, and there's no one to stop them. Now more than ever." "I never thought I'd regret belonging to the Corps." She paused, even now horrified by her own near-blasphemy. Speaking out against the Corps and its practices was more than unheard-of-- it was unthinkable. Of course, it was her husband's doing that very thing that had gotten them into this mess in the first place, but still.... "I guess nobody's untouchable." Her rueful chuckle still had a hysterical edge to it. "So what are you going to do?" "Do?" She gave him an uncomprehending deer-in-headlights look. "I don't know that there's anything I *can* do. They've made up their minds, there's no changing it." "Do," he affirmed. "Are you going to sit on my couch and cry? Are you going to go home and wait until they come for you? They will, you know. They have few scruples, and they *will not hesitate* to use you and Lex to get to him." She took a deep breath, and tried to control her trembling. "I know. But this is Psi Corps! You can't fight Psi Corps! I know, I was a field cop for over ten years!" "And he's been one for nearly twenty," Caldwell half-whispered in her ear. "You know all the tricks and all the traps. You know all the stupid mistakes that rogues can make. And you know how to avoid them. If *anybody* can get away-- and you know they can and do-- it's you two. So are you going to stay? Or are you going to fight?" To her, death meant mindwipe, clearing out an old personality to make room for a more socially acceptable one. Mina pictured someone else behind her husband's laughing eyes, a stranger's mind instead of the familiar spirit she'd loved for over fifteen years, and shuddered. "I can't stand what they'd do to him. And I won't let them take Lex away from us." She imagined her daughter growing up in the Corps school, never knowing mother or father, and her jaw tensed angrily. "What's the old quote- `Better to die on your feet than live on your knees?'" She stared challengingly into Caldwell's unseeing eyes, then looked back down at Duchess. "I *will not* let them take away what we've worked so hard to build." "Now that's the kitten I love so much. I will help you as much as I can." "I'll need plenty of that." He held up a hand. "What I don't know, I can't tell." "From you, I have no secrets." He hugged her tighter. They had spoken the sentence to each other hundreds of times during the nearly twenty years of their relationship. It was part of the telepath's oath of undying love, spoken only to one's one or two closest friends, and occasionally one's spouse. "But I can't tell you what I don't know. And I haven't decided." "You need to move quickly, kitten. I'll see about getting you identicards and clearing out your credit accounts without setting off any alarms." Mina nodded. "Thanks, Frank." "I'll call when I'm done." He hugged her again, and she slipped out the door. The old bags from her active-duty days were in the back of the closet. Mina packed quickly and efficiently, thankful for old habits. She transferred most of the contents of her jewelry box into a small container designed for that very purpose. Pausing for a moment, she slipped her smallest fingers into tiny slots at the bottom, and triggered the secret compartment. In here were her most precious pieces. The tiny silver band that was the only thing her parents left her. Her silver student badge, engraved with her name and date of birth. The opal promise ring that Jeff had given her. The garnet earring whose mate had been lost somewhere in a field on a lonely colony world light-years away from civilization.... And, of course, the sapphire pendant she had worn on her wedding day. These items went into the box as well, tucked safely into the bottom of her bag. She took the smaller of the two bags into her daughter's room. Every toy was neatly in place, and the bed was made. It wouldn't pass any kind of close inspection, but Lex was only six, after all. After the drawers had been mostly emptied, and a few favorite toys had been added, she moved toward the office, closing the door behind her. The room felt empty. Its primary occupant had left his desk in total disarray, but it was an abandoned mess. Mina impulsively straightened a few piles, then pulled out the bottom drawer. She lifted out the firebox, and opened the false back of the drawer. A single data crystal sparkled in the sudden light. The label read, "In Case of Emergency, Break Glass," in Al's messy script. Chuckling, she replaced the back and the firebox. She almost emptied the box, but changed her mind. It held all the paperwork accumulated in three lifetimes-- birth certificates, diplomas, a marriage certificate, Corps certification. But they were running, starting over, creating a new life. The com chimed. she thought, activating the screen. Davis was there, looking like a boy with a frog. "Mina! Have you heard?" "Heard what?" she asked warily. "[name]'s declared independence for Mars!" "What?!" "He says that Mars is an independent state, and will remain so until Clark is impeached!" "Oh. That's-- really something," she managed. "Are you okay, kitten?" "Yeah-- it's just a bit of a shock." "No kidding. I'll let you know if I find out more. Got more people to tell." "You do that, Davis." From angelt@primenet.com Sat Jun 15 14:27:12 1996 Date: Fri, 14 Jun 1996 14:15:17 -0700 (MST) From: Angel Trinkle Reply-To: b5-creative@lists1.best.com To: b5-creative@lists1.best.com Subject: Runaways pt 2 (Revised) Here is a slightly revised version of part 2, based on a suggestion by Kyle and Anne which, upon further reflection, made a great deal of sense. If you like the change, thank them. If you don't, blame me. Everybody is still copyright JMS et al, except Mina, Lex, Cass, Caldwell, and Duchess, who are still mine. Yours in the Light, Angel -begin part 2- Mina heard footsteps come down the stairs, and pause by Lex's room. A moment later, there was a knock at the door. "Yes?" Cass opened the door slightly and poked her head through. "Mina, are you all right?" "Yes, I'm fine. Why?" "Well-- it's the middle of the day; you're not usually home. Is everything okay?" Mina tightened her shields and gave her daughter's loyal nanny a faint smile and a bold-faced lie. "Montoya's declared independence for Mars," she said, which was true enough. "Al called just before the public announcement. He's worried about Clark's potential reaction. He wants me to take Lex to Vega III. Apparently, it's light-gravity, its loyalty is unquestionable, and it's in a non-strategic location, if it comes down to that." Cass paled slightly. "Oh, god. Do you really think it'll come to that?" "I hope not. But you never know. We're on the brink of civil war-- and Al's afraid that it might become a *shooting* war." "But-- this is a colony! Do you really think Clark will bomb *civilians*?" "Frankly, Cass, I don't know what Clark will do. He's dissolved the Senate, declared martial law-- he's damn near broken every article in the Constitution! Do you think he's going to be suddenly scrupulous about sending a colony that's been a pain in the ass for Earthgov for *years* straight to hell? He probably sees this as an opportunity!" She chuckled nervously. "I didn't know you were pro-Free Mars." Mina gave her a rueful smile. "Only in my more radical moments, when Al's not around. You know, I think you could draw a line on a schematic of people who are pro- and anti- Free Mars, and the overwhelming difference would be birthplace. I was born here, this is my home, but to Al it's still just a dinky colony. You know, `Without Earth, this colony wouldn't even exist! Show a little gratitude!' But I think the Earthers' desperation is primarily because Earth wouldn't be able to survive without its colonies. Economic dependence is a major issue. But we don't really have time to swap political theories." "Down off the soapbox, Mina," Cass laughed. "I never realized you felt so strongly." She looked down at her hands. "So you're leaving tonight? I saw the luggage in Lex's room." "This afternoon, if possible. I want you to go home to your family. They'll need you, and if you evacuate, you should evacuate together. Cuts down on the doubts and worries. Trust me, I'll be biting my nails until we get off that ship and Al's there." "Are you sure?" she asked, torn between her family and her duty. "Yes. Go. God go with you. Corps willing, we'll see each other in a few months." They hugged, and Cass hurried out. Mina sat down at the terminal and began searching for a safe place to run. *** Caldwell met them at the spaceport. He handed Mina the identicards and a credchit. "These are good, they'll last you awhile." Lex was scowling ferociously. "You have a beautiful son, Mina." "Thank you, I like to think so." Lex scowled even more fiercely. "Mommy made me cut my hair. And hide Emily. And dress like a *boy.* It's not fair." The adults struggled valiantly to suppress their smiles. "It's not fair, Lex, but it's important. You've got to pretend you're a little boy named Robin," Caldwell told her. "I gave her a unisex name so when you get where you're going she can be a little girl again." Mina glanced down at the cards in her hands and into Duchess' eyes. "Frank, I-- thank you. How can I ever repay you?" "Just get where you're going safely, kitten, and try to come back to me. All those times where *you* saved *my* ass-- or my relationship-- more than makes up for it." "Transport *Robinson* to Babylon 5 boarding at Gate 10," announced the soft disembodied voice. "That's your ship, kitten." Mina nodded. "Thank you," she said again, and hugged him tightly. She touched his cheek with one ungloved hand for a fleeting moment. Her love touched his soul; he traced the familiar curves of her mind; they confirmed the vows of love that bound them. :From you I have no secrets. To you, my mind is open. My heart is yours to hold. My soul is yours to care for. All that I can give, I give to you. I will never hurt you. I swear it so.: Fighting off tears, she took her child's hand and turned quickly away. "Take care, kitten," the blind psi cop whispered, hand tightening in Duchess' fur, feeling the tears on his cheeks and seeing them through his companion's eyes. The dog whined. :They come back?: :I don't know. I hope so, girl.: *** Mina turned a corner and nearly ran into the same man she'd assaulted in the Zocalo two days before. He held up his hands placatingly. "Please don't hit me. I don't want to hurt you, I just want to talk to you." "Who are you? What do you want?" "Two big questions at once," he said, laughing. "My name is Marcus Cole, I'm with an organization called the Rangers. And I want you." "I'm a married woman, Mr. Cole." He had the good grace to look embarrassed. "That's not what I meant. That creature you saw-- like I told you, only telepaths can see them. We don't want them on the station, so we're hiring all the rogue telepaths we can find to wander around and find them." "Then what?" she asked suspiciously. "We issue you a com link, all you have to do is discreetly call it in to security. It's five credits for every hour you wander-- it doesn't have to be the only thing you're doing, either-- and it's fifty for a confirmed sighting, and a hundred for a capture or kill." "I see." She was still nervous, still cautious-- but it was money, and hers was starting to run out. "What *are* those things? And why don't you want them on the station? I mean, they bother telepaths, but they don't seem to affect normals." "They're called Shadows. And we don't want them on the station because they're evil." "Evil," she repeated. "I don't know that I've ever run into something that was completely evil before." "Sure you have. Day before yesterday." He smiled. "So, are you interested?" She took a deep breath. "Yes." "Well, then, come with me to Security, and we'll issue you a comlink and get you on the payroll. What's your name?" "Do you want the name on my identicard or the one on my birth certificate?" "Birth certificate. Garibaldi does a background check, to make sure you are who you say you are." "Camina Filmore." *** Mr. Cole led her to the security office, where a uniformed officer had his feet up on his desk and was staring at the ceiling. "Ah, Garibaldi, you're in." "Yeah, what do you want?" "I have a new telepath." The feet came down with a thud. "Michael Garibaldi," he said. "Ah. The chief of security. I'm Camina Filmore." "Looking to be a shadow hunter, huh?" "She's the woman that attacked me two days ago," Cole admitted. "So you've got taste on top of everything else." She flushed. "He-- startled me." "What'd I tell you, Marcus, never startle a rogue telepath." He got to his feet. "If you would come with me?" He escorted her to a small interrogation room next to his office. "If you'll wait in here, we'll do some checks, get you cleared, no big deal. The decor isn't the greatest, but it beats standing in the corridor." He grinned. She gave him a shy return smile. "Of course. Thank you." The door closed behind him, and she took a seat. What she was about to do was quite unethical, but they had her at a distinct advantage and she couldn't be too careful. She lowered some of her shielding and gently probed for the presences that were `Marcus' and `Michael.' There. She lightly scanned their public minds, picking up their thoughts the split second before they were vocalized. Michael was saying. Marcus suggested. A fleeting image of herself crossed his mind. Garibaldi asked wryly. Marcus was confused. was Marcus' dry response. Marcus shrugged. He leaned over Garibaldi's shoulder. Mina retreated behind her shields as the door opened. "All clear," Garibaldi reported. "I'm going to issue you a comlink, and then Marcus is going to take you down to medlab." "Medlab? Why?" she asked innocently. "Your records say you're a psychologist. Marcus thinks that you might be able to work with Dr. Franklin." Mina nodded, giving him a smile that seemed to inspire his confidence. "By the way-- your psi rating is classified. Do you know why?" "It's SOP for psi cops with a rating higher than P12," she replied. "I could tell you what it is--" "But then you'd have to kill me?" She smiled again. "Well-- let's just say that a little mayhem would be in order, at the very least." "P12," Garibaldi nodded. "Gotcha. Marcus-- she's all yours." "Thanks," he replied, then looked over at Mina. "I think." *** "Ooh, flowers!" Lex squealed. "Yes, they are. Are you going to let me in, or am I doomed to stand in the corridor all night?" "Oops, sorry. Come in, Mr. Cole." "Hi, Marcus," Mina said, coming out of her bedroom. "What beautiful flowers! Thank you. But you didn't have to, really." "You invited me to dinner. It seemed the right thing to do." "It's the least I could do, Marcus. You've helped us so much-- and I still feel bad about attacking you." He waved it off. "Do you have anything I could put these in?" She handed him a glass. "Best I can do." He put the flowers in water while she fixed plates and Lex set the table. "So how's it going with Commander Ivanova?" He groaned and sat down. "Don't ask." "That good, huh?" "She thinks I'm annoying. Me!" "Imagine that," Mina said, fighting laughter. "You know, you're going about this all wrong, Marcus." "Am I?" he arched an eyebrow. "And this is your professional opinion?" "As a woman, yes." "And how would you recommend I go about this particular task?" "You need," Mina told him, "to attract her attention." "Attract her attention!" he burst out. "I assure you, Camina, her *attention* is *not* what I want to attract." She laughed. "Getting ahead of yourself, my friend. You need to attract her attention before you can attract anything else." "And how would you propose I attract her attention in a fashion that will eventually attract other facets of her?" "Make her jealous." "What?" He jumped to his feet. "You've lost your mind!" "There are some that would agree with you. Sit down, and I'll explain what I mean." He gingerly lowered himself into the chair again. She took a bite of her dinner and continued. "Ivanova's attracted to you, there's no doubt about that." "How can you be sure?" She gave him an are-you-kidding look. "Marcus, I'm a *telepath.*" "You scanned her?" he asked, horrified. "God, no! Contrary to popular belief, a telepath doesn't have to be actively scanning to pick up certain things. Like emotions. Normals are *loud,* Marcus. It's usually more of an effort *not* to pick up what you're feeling. I'm a good psychologist, and part of that is my ability to sit next to a patient and tell how he's feeling or when he's lying to me. And certain emotions are louder than others. Lies are particularly bad. Depression. Jealousy. Joy. Certain varieties of pleasure. And lust. The stronger the emotion, the clearer it is. If you were suicidal, for example, I'd be able to tell across the room. If you were mildly unhappy, though, I probably wouldn't be able to tell unless I touched you. I assure you, Ivanova is attracted to you." "Well, that's a relief." "That's why I'm willing to help you. I don't go in for hopeless causes." She smiled. "Here's what we're going to do." He was outraged, but she was patient, explaining the logic several times over. Her credentials? A lifetime among telepaths, a gift she'd had her whole life, a doctorate in psychology, and a fifteen-year marriage that no one said would work. And finally, long after the table had been cleared and Lex had been tucked into bed, he agreed. "I still think this is a crazy idea," he said as she let him out. "Have faith in yourself, Marcus. I'll see you tomorrow." The door slid closed, and she was alone with her thoughts. Hatching the plan had left her too excited to sleep. She wandered into her bedroom and slid open the drawer in the nightstand. A single data crystal lay there. She lifted it out, watched the sparkle of its facets in the overhead light. she wondered, feeling tired all at once. And the forbidden thought, Impulsively, she walked into the living room and dropped the crystal into the viewer. It said, `emergency,' and she hadn't felt like it was an emergency just yet. But tonight, she wanted to see what was on it. Details spread out before her; charts and figures, details of twisted experiments and interference. And a name. Her blood ran cold, and she sat back. A name. Shadows. Numbly, she got to her feet, picked up the crystal, glanced in on a peacefully sleeping Lex, and stumbled out into the corridor. "They've infiltrated the Corps," she said as soon as the door opened. He blinked, confused. He'd been nearly asleep when she rang the chime and hadn't fully woken up yet. "Who?" She took a calming breath. "Do your Rangers do more than keep Shadows off the station?" "Yes," he admitted cautiously. "They've infiltrated the Corps. I've got it here." She held up the data crystal. "This is what they're trying to kill my husband for!" It sank in. "Come in." They sat down. "Can I get you some tea?" "No, thank you." "Calm down. Now, tell me what this is all about." She slowly explained what Caldwell had told her about dangerous information, and the price on her husband's head. Then she explained a little bit about what was on the crystal. He stood up sharply, punched a code into his terminal, and said, "Let's go." "Where are you taking me?" she asked hesitantly. "To a council of war." -end part 2- From angelt@primenet.com Sat Jun 15 14:28:36 1996 Date: Fri, 14 Jun 1996 14:22:45 -0700 (MST) From: Angel Trinkle Reply-To: b5-creative@lists1.best.com To: b5-creative@lists1.best.com Subject: Runaways pt 3 Here it is-- the brand new part of "Runaways." Thanks to my beta readers for their rapid responses. Standard disclaimer here. Mina and Lex remain mine. Yours in the Light, Angel -begin part 3- The room he brought her to did have the feel of a war room. Marcus gestured her to a seat and took the one beside her. Garibaldi was the first to come in. He gave Mina a strange look and sat down. A lovely brunette with a commander's bars and a scowl on her face was next. "This better be good, Marcus." "Did I wake you up, Ivanova?" he asked politely. "No, I was-- never mind." She sat next to Garibaldi. Franklin came in. "What's going on?" He gave Marcus an unmistakable look of, similar to the one Garibaldi had flashed him. "Marcus has a great secret," Ivanova said dryly. The door opened, and a Narn stood there. "I haven't missed anything, have I?" he asked, almost eagerly. "No, the captain and Delenn haven't gotten here yet," Garibaldi said. "Come on in, G'kar." Grinning like a schoolboy, the Narn did as he was bid. A tall gentleman in civilian clothes and a dark-haired Minbari came in together. Mina assumed they were Captain Sheridan and Ambassador Delenn "All right, Marcus, what's so special that it can't wait until morning?" he asked. Marcus got to his feet. "She is." All eyes fixed on her. "And she is...." Sheridan prompted. "This is Dr. Camina Filmore. She's one of our shadow-hunters." "She's the psi cop," Garibaldi said. "She *was* a psi cop," Marcus corrected dryly. "She's not one any more." "I sit corrected," he replied, with an apologetic nod in Mina's direction. "Dr. Filmore left the Corps because her husband found out something that he wasn't supposed to know. She didn't know what this information was until tonight, when she found a data crystal in her belongings." Mina shook her head. "No? What, then?" ""I knew I had it, I just hadn't looked at it." "Why not?" Ivanova queried. "Because it was marked `emergency,' and I hadn't felt like it was an emergency." "But tonight it was an emergency?" "No. Yes. I don't know." Mina took a deep breath and created a cloak of calm to settle over her shoulders. When she looked up again, she had banished the threat of tears. Next to her, she felt Marcus start as he glimpsed the psi cop she had been. "The Corps is after my husband. He told me he would join us here as soon as he could. That was almost a month ago. He could be dead, and I wouldn't know it. I missed him, and the crystal was all I had left of him. So I looked at it." "What did you find?" Sheridan asked. "Information on the Corps and the Shadows. And President Clark. Records of experiments, disappearances, cover-ups... things like that." "Really," mused the captain. "Why should we trust you?" Ivanova demanded. Mina raised an eyebrow. "I beg your pardon?" "How do we know you're telling the truth? I mean, you show up here, you just *happen* to become a shadow-hunter, and you just *happen* to have vital information about the Shadows. Seems like an awful lot of coincidences." "I came to B5 because it was a space station, and as such had adjustable gravity. I'm from Mars, and so is my daughter. I didn't want to subject her to full gravity. I also knew that B5 is notoriously sympathetic towards rogue telepaths; there used to be a station of the Underground Railroad through here. I became a shadow-hunter because I `just happen' to be a telepath. I certainly didn't scheme my way into the position; I attacked Marcus the first time he approached me. And if I didn't have this information, I wouldn't be here in the first place. I'd be at home, where I belong." Mina looked at Susan calmly. "Why should *I* trust *you?*" "We're the good guys," Garibaldi pointed out. "With all due respect, Mr. Garibaldi, I've heard that before. I'm sure President Clark thinks the same thing. I've never run into anybody who claims to be the bad guys. It's all a matter of perspective; of angle. What's your angle? Does your definition of `good guy' coincide with mine?" Sheridan held up his hand to cut off Ivanova and Garibaldi's rather vocal protests. "Does anyone have any *constructive* objections?" "She could have an implanted personality," Ivanova observed. "So could you," Mina retorted. "Any of you could have anything up to and including the chicken pox. Incidentally, I *don't* have an implanted personality, but I *do* have information you want; I don't see why I should be the one doing the convincing." "The very fact that we haven't turned you in as a rogue telepath should count for something." "Yes, Captain, it does. That's why I'm talking to you in the first place." She looked down at her hands. "Look, if you don't trust me, you have two options that I can see. Since you've chosen not to throw me out thus far, you could hear me out and take my testimony on faith or ignore any or all of it. Or, if you have a telepath P5 or higher available, you could have me scanned." "But you're a psi cop. Nobody could scan you." "Not without my consent, Commander, no. But with my full cooperation, a P5 could do a deep scan. If I were hiding something, they wouldn't be able to tell what it was, of course, but they'd be able to tell I was shielding. They'd also be able to give you independent confirmation of this particular ability." Sheridan nodded at Garibaldi, who tapped his comlink and requested that one of his people find Ms. Alexander and bring her to the war room. Mina thought to herself. But it was. The slim redhead entered the room, escorted by a young man in a security uniform. She glanced over at Mina, and paused. "Dr. Filmore!" "Lyta!" They spent a few seconds just staring at each other, delighted. "God, it's been forever!" :Mina, what are you doing here?: With the speed of thought, Mina brought her old friend up to date on the situation. :Hm. You're in dangerous territory, Mina; I don't think you know how dangerous. Follow my lead, and no matter what, *don't tell them who you are!*: :Why?: :I'll explain later. Trust me, my friend, as I've trusted you.: "Er-- you two know each other?" Garibaldi asked, dumbfounded. "Yes," Lyta said, laughing. "I worked under Dr. Filmore and her partner when I was fresh out of the Academy-- during my short-lived stint among the psi cops." Sheridan explained the situation, finishing with, "She claims that you could scan her if she cooperated." Lyta nodded. "Yes, I could. I think. It's been years--" "You can," Mina reassured her. "It's like riding a bicycle; you don't forget." Sheridan gave Lyta an affirmative nod, and she sat down beside Mina. She went through a series of breathing exercises, then grasped Mina's hands with her own as their shields went down. It hurt. A lot. Lyta was well-trained, but she was still an unpracticed P5. "She's telling the truth," Lyta said. Mina glanced at her wrist chrono and noted that fifteen minutes had passed. "So now you know you can trust me. How do I know I can trust you?" Sheridan frowned. "You can scan me." "But, sir!" Ivanova protested. Shrug. "Turnabout is fair play." "Thank you, Captain." She moved to stand behind him, placed her hands on his cheeks with a lover's gentleness. The scan went quickly and easily. Sheridan was a good-hearted, straightforward man who, in many ways, was exactly what he seemed to be. Mina was reassured. "You scanned him?" Ivanova asked incredulously as she stepped back a moment later. Sheridan was nodding. "Yes," Mina confirmed. "But-- but-- when Bester and Kelsey scanned Talia-- it was much more traumatic." "Pain and terror are tools, Commander. A delicate touch takes more effort, but it can be infinitely more rewarding if you want to inspire the loyalty of the person you're scanning." Mina cleared her throat and held up the crystal. "So. What do you want to know?" *** Mina's crystal went a long way towards helping determine how many people in EarthGov could be trusted. Garibaldi once asked, idly, how her husband had managed to find out all this secret information. She looked at him like he'd lost his mind, and replied, "He's-- a telepath. Work it out." That was the last mention she made of him. *** A rather shaggy figure burst through the door of Medlab, panting heavily. "She's going to kill me!" "Hello, Marcus," and, "Hi, Marcus," Mina and Stephen replied mildly, without looking up. "How's it going?" Mina asked. "Wonderfully, I'm sure," he groaned, sinking into the nearest chair. "We've certainly got her attention. She's threatened mayhem three times already, and it's not even noon yet." "Good," she responded, still not looking up. "Good? Good? At this rate, she's going to rip my throat out long before she ever goes to bed with me, and all you can say is, `good?' Mina, are you feeling all right?" "I'm feeling just fine, Marcus; how kind of you to ask. Susan's angry, yes. But she's not mad at you, she's mad at *herself.* And that makes all the difference in the world." She smiled. "Trust me." "Do you believe what she's saying?" he asked, rounding on Stephen, who simply nodded. "Trust me," Mina repeated. "She hasn't killed you yet, has she?" "Well-- no. But she's come close." "Hide out for awhile until she calms down. I'll see you at lunch." With a groan and a sigh, Marcus headed for the door. They maintained their serious poses until the door slid closed, then collapsed in laughter. "The *expression* on his *face,*" Stephen gasped. "I know," she giggled. "But it's working perfectly-- she's about ready to kill him half the time, and *me* the other half." "I'll bet she's hoping your husband shows up soon." "I'm sure she is," she replied, sobering. "I'm sure she is." Mina stole a quick glance at the chrono and got to her feet. "I've got to run; I've got an appointment in a few. See you later?" "At lunch, maybe. This should be fun to watch." She chuckled. "Terrific. You should take lunch more often; it's good for you." "Is that your professional opinion, Doctor?" he asked wryly. "As a matter of fact, it is," was her parting shot as she slipped out the door. *** "I'll see you next week, Trisha." "Thanks for listening, Dr. Filmore," the young ensign replied gratefully, getting to her feet. "No problem. If the nightmares keep bothering you, don't be afraid to call me, all right?" "Yes, ma'am. And thanks again." The door slid shut. Mina got to her feet, stretched, and headed to the Zocalo to meet Marcus for lunch. She was rounding the last corner, weaving through the noon crowd, when she felt it again. Darkness, menace, alien minds pressing in around her.... Trying to clear her head, she touched her comlink and managed, "Filmore to," before the darkness consumed her. "Are you all right?" The voice was outwardly smooth and soothing, but her inner ear traced the alien darkness that oozed within it, and she groggily tried to move away. "She doesn't seem to like you," a richly accented voice observed. "Help her," the dark voice suggested. "I'll contact you later." Mina opened her eyes slowly. She was still in the crowded hallway where she'd sensed the darkness. It was still there, but fading. "Are you all right?" the accent asked. "Yes, I think so," she replied weakly, struggling to focus on the stranger. "Good," he said. "Do you want me to help you to Medlab?" "No," she started to say when another wave of dizziness hit. "Yes. If it isn't too much trouble." "Helping a damsel in distress is no trouble at all," the stranger replied, helping her to her feet. His mind was blissfully quiet. It took her a moment to realize he was a Centauri. "Thank you, Mr.--" "Mollari," he said. "You're new to B5, aren't you?" "Yes-- how did you know?" "Because anyone who's been here any length of time knows who the Centauri Ambassador is," he said, laughing. "You-- Mollari-- *Ambassador* Mollari," she gasped, startled. "I-- wasn't thinking; I'm sorry." "You have an excuse for not thinking straight, my dear," he assured her. "One moment you were casually walking down the corridor, the next moment you were collapsed on the floor. Are you prone to that kind of behavior?" "Not ordinarily," she replied, still shaky. "The-- I need to talk to Garibaldi." "Well, first you will talk to Dr. Franklin," he said, ushering her into Medlab One. "Dr. Filmore!" Franklin said, appearing before Mollari could bellow for him. "Ah, Dr. Franklin. You know this lovely woman?" "Yes, she's one of my therapists. What are you doing with her?" "I assure you, Doctor, I have only the most gentlemanly of intentions. She collapsed in the corridor; I am merely helping her." Franklin led them to a table; Mollari helped her up onto it. By this time, most of the grogginess had faded. As Franklin began his examination, the Centauri ambassador turned to her with a bow. "I'm afraid I must leave you now, my dear. I have other appointments I must attend to." "Thank you so much for your help, Ambassador," Mina replied, with a dazzling smile. "It was no trouble, no trouble at all. I hope you are well soon." He bowed, departed. "What happened?" Franklin asked. "Shadows-- many of them. And a man-- with a voice like cream to the ear, but like rancid milk to the mind. He-- was with the ambassador, but he left." She looked up just in time to see Franklin's frown deepen. "Mina, what's the difference between-- say, a P5 and a P12?" "In what respect? We're talking about exponential leaps of power, here, Stephen." "Oh-- if a P5 sensed someone who frightened them. What would a P12 sense?" "I'm not following you." "Okay, let's turn it around. What you sensed was strong enough to make you pass out. What would happen if a P5 sensed the same thing?" "They'd probably have one hell of a scare," she replied with a shrug. "Beyond that-- not much. They'd sense the darkness, maybe a little bit of the Shadows-- why?" "Middle of last year I had the station's commercial telepath in here-- I think I'll let Garibaldi explain, actually. I'm surprised he didn't warn you about him." "About who?" Garibaldi asked, coming in the door. "Are you all right? One of my people said they saw Ambassador Mollari drag you in here a few minutes ago, half-conscious." Mina was nodding, but Franklin interrupted, "I think she had a little run-in with our good friend Mr. Morden." -end pt 3- From angelt@primenet.com Sun Dec 22 23:28:33 1996 Date: Tue, 17 Sep 1996 13:57:01 +0000 From: Angel Trinkle To: b5-creative@lists.best.com Subject: Runaways pt 4 Finally, finally, here it is-- the final chapter to "Runaways." Enjoy. Give me feedback. Etc. This story is not in any way intended to infringe on copyrights held by J. Michael Straczynski, Babylonian Productions Inc., or Time Warner Productions. This story may be distributed only with prior permission of the author. Mina and Lex are mine. Etc. Runaways, part 4 "Captain," Mina said in a deceptively soft voice, "what exactly do you and your staff have against telepaths?" Sheridan looked over to where she and Garibaldi stood in the doorway of his office in surprise. "I beg your pardon?" "What do you and your staff have against telepaths? I'd really like to know-- I don't appreciate being used." "Come in, Dr. Filmore. Have a seat." She slid into the room with the easy, deadly grace of a shark, and took the indicated chair. Garibaldi took the other one with uncharacteristic meekness. "What seems to be the problem?" The psi cop Mina had been was quite evident in the coldly self-confident woman who sat across from him. "Dr. Franklin and Mr. Garibaldi just told me about a-- person-- who frequents this station. It seems that his very presence had been-- shall we say-- distressing-- to the station's commercial telepath, a P5 by the name of Talia Winters. When she passed near this-- person in the corridor, after she had quite correctly refused to scan him, he affected her quite-- unpleasantly. It seems that they passed each other in the corridor at your instruction. It also seems that you suspected that this person would have a-- negative impact on Miss Winters. This proved to be the case. Gave the poor young woman a terrible scare. This was not reported to Psi Corps, which is not surprising, considering the general opinion of your staff towards the Corps. However, no one has bothered to warn any of the other telepaths on the station of the effect this man has on telepaths, despite the heavy recruitment of telepaths by your staff. Am I the only one who sees a problem?" Sheridan leaned back in his chair thoughtfully. "I took Mr. Morden into custody last year for-- reasons I won't go into." Mina twitched at his crimson flare of anger and resentment, tightly entangled with the memory of a smooth-voiced, dark-haired man. "Are you all right?" She nodded, and he continued. "While we were holding him, I found out that he was essentially the ambassador for the Shadows. We couldn't prove anything; he hadn't done anything wrong and we were going to have to let him go. I called in Miss Winters to scan him, and she refused. So I arranged to have him moved using the same corridor that she was being escorted back to her quarters in. I was hoping that she'd pick something up-- a thought, something incriminating. I didn't expect her to have the kind of reaction that she did. I'd heard chittering from his cell, but we didn't know what it was. On a hunch, I had Zack Allen cycle the light frequencies, and discovered that he was traveling with a pair of Shadows." He shrugged. "In the meantime, things started happening. We broke away from Earth, the Shadows started attacking openly-- in short, everything went straight to hell. Honestly, I'd forgotten about it until just now. I'll hold a meeting of the staff telepaths if you like, but it's really a moot point. Mr. Morden has been banned from the station." "Respectfully, Captain, it's not. First of all, Miss Winters' reaction would imply that more than one Shadow together is dangerous. I doubt they have to be with Mr. Morden to travel together. Second of all, as of an hour ago, Mr. Morden is on the station." "What?" "`And last I heard, being alive is not a crime,'" Mina quoted calmly. "It was Morden who said that, yes?" "How did you know that?" he demanded, angry. "I picked it up from you when you mentioned taking Morden into custody. Strong emotion from two feet in front of me is almost impossible to block. I recognized the voice in your memory from my encounter. You see, not quite an hour ago, I was lying unconscious in a corridor because I came unexpectedly upon Mr. Morden." "Michael, I want him off my station. Yesterday," he said fiercely, rounding on Garibaldi. "Along with whoever let him on. Preferably out an air lock." "Yes, sir," Garibaldi replied, and was gone. "Thank you, Captain," Mina said as Sheridan slowly turned back to her. "Your reaction is quite reassuring." "We don't have anything against telepaths, Dr. Filmore; our only argument is with Psi Corps." "Mutually exclusive though that may sound," she commented dryly. "But I appreciate the sentiment." "I'll arrange a meeting of the staff telepaths. I'd appreciate it if you were there, so you can describe your experience?" "Certainly," she assured him. "And based on my reaction and Dr. Franklin's description of Miss Winters, I should be able to extrapolate the reactions of other psis to the presence of Shadows. In the meantime, we need to emphasize the importance of staying alert. I had an adverse reaction to Mr. Morden and his escort because I wasn't paying attention and I wasn't shielding properly. It won't happen again, and I want to make sure it doesn't happen to anyone else. I have a responsibility to my fellow telepaths." Sheridan raised an eyebrow. "A psi cop-- even a former psi cop-- has the responsibility to protect lesser teeps to the best of their ability, Captain." "I thought psi cops `protected' normals, by rounding up rogues." "Certainly. But by protecting the public, we protect telepaths. By controlling undesirables, we protect the community from unauthorized scans and irrational fear, which would lead to discrimination against most telepaths." "You, a rogue telepath, sit here and tell me that." She gave him a wry smile. "I'm not perfect, Captain. I protect my family first." "If only every psi cop had that particular flaw," he responded dryly. *** Franklin caught sight of her and waved her over to where he was sitting with Marcus and Lyta at a small restaurant in the Zocalo. "How are you feeling?" "I'm fine," she replied, brushing away his concern and sliding into the booth next to Marcus. "The captain's already sent out a message warning telepaths about the danger of multiple Shadows, and he's planning a meeting to emphasize it; Garibaldi's tearing apart the station trying to find Morden and whoever let him aboard." "What happened?" Marcus asked. She filled him in quickly. "That's why I didn't join you at lunch." "I'm glad you didn't," he said. "Well, I never," she huffed, then grinned. "Why not?" "Because," Marcus said, giving them both a smug smile, "I have a date tomorrow night." "With Susan?" He nodded. "I had to tell her that your-- attentions-- were entirely unwanted and basically imply that she was saving me from you, but--" "Told you it wasn't a hopeless case." Mina gave him a mock-glare. "But did you have to completely ruin my reputation? She probably thinks I'm a total man-eater now." "You mean you're not?" a heartbreakingly familiar voice behind her asked. "You've had me fooled all these years?" She turned, slowly, and stood up. "Al?" she whispered. His onyx eyes met her own, and he smiled. "Hi, honey," he said. "I'm back." She collapsed into his arms, opening her mind to him. :Gods, Al, I missed you so much,: she half-sobbed. :I was so scared that they'd found you and I'd never see you again.: His mind was silk and fur, blue and green, wood smoke and summer. :I missed you, too. I can't describe to you how afraid I was that I'd come on the station and not find you here. Where's Lex?: :Safe. She's in school.: :This late in the day?: :After-school activities. Dance lessons, and the like.: :Good.: His voice was sunshine in her thoughts, warming the cold terrified parts of her. :Sounds like you've settled in well.: :Thanks to Marcus and Stephen. Have you met--: she started to turn away from him, became aware of the shocked expression on Stephen's face and the footsteps behind them. "What are *you* doing here?" Sheridan asked suspiciously, coming up behind them with Ivanova and Garibaldi. "And how the hell did you get on my station?" "I came on the station through customs, like everyone else. As for what I'm doing-- I am reassuring myself that my wife is in one piece," Al replied smoothly. Five jaws dropped. Five people silently mouthed, `your wife?' in mingled shock and horror. Garibaldi found his voice first. "*Bester's* your husband?!" Mina turned, smiled at Michael, and said, "Well, yes." The group erupted into chaos. After trying several more dignified methods, Sheridan finally put two fingers in his mouth and whistled. They fell silent. "Everybody sit down." They sat, Ivanova and Garibaldi grabbing chairs from empty tables so all of them could comply with Sheridan's request. "All right, people, one at a time." Everyone sat mute for a minute, waiting for someone else to begin. Finally, Ivanova burst out, "Mina, we *trusted* you!" "Yes, I know. Which is exactly why I acted like I did-- and why Lyta helped me." Lyta coolly stared down the accusing glares. "Look, I'm no different that I was five minutes ago. I'm still the same person you've worked with for three months. I'm the same person who has earned your trust and, in some cases, your friendship. The only thing that's changed is that you know my husband's name." "Yeah, but your husband is *Bester.*" "Yes, Michael, and where do you think the information about the Shadows came from? Knowing its origin doesn't erase the good it's done, does it?" "No-- but--" "But nothing, Stephen. Lyta-- could you help me out here?" She turned to her friend, spreading her hands helplessly. The slim telepath surveyed the room. "I told you, Mina and I go way back. We've been friends since I trained with the Psi Cops. I told you that she and her partner helped me a lot, and my decision to stay out of the cops had nothing to do with them. I didn't tell you that Bester was her partner. It was *my* idea that she keep his name a secret. She knew that you didn't like Bester much, but she had no idea *how* much. I knew that no matter what she did, you'd never trust her as long as her name was Bester. And I was right. Even after all you know about Psi Corps' arranged marriages and breeding programs, you still turn against her." Marcus cautiously raised a hand in protest. "Yes, but-- arranged marriages aside, she loves him." "A terrible flaw in a marriage, but what can you do?" Al, who'd had about all he could take of being talked about as if he wasn't there, observed. "Besides," Mina said, supressing a smile, "nobody asked me." "Well, you didn't want to talk about him, and we didn't want to upset you...." Garibaldi trailed off. "Very clever." "Of course, it helped that I *did* miss him, and I *didn't* want to think about what might have happened to him," she replied, cuddling closer to Al. Ivanova snorted. "Helps when you don't have to act." Glancing at her chrono, Mina said, "Good gracious, look at the time. I-- *we* have to pick up Lex." They rose together. "See you guys later." As they walked away, she overheard Ivanova demanding of Sheridan, "So what do we do *now*?" :So what do you think they'll do?: :About you? Nothing. Your crystal helped a lot; they can't deny that.: They walked in companiable silence for awhile. :They really don't like you, do they?: Amusement rippled through his thoughts. :Ivanova would push me out an air lock, if she could. The others-- well, they wouldn't help, but they certainly wouldn't stop her. Except perhaps the captain, and only if he had something to gain. Or lose. I believe she blames me personally for every questionable action Psi Corps has ever taken. And one action in particular that had little to do with us.: :Her mother, yes. And Talia. She was the only member of the Corps-- and probably the only telepath-- she ever allowed herself to trust, and it blew up in her face.: :What about you?: Shrug. :She tolerates me. I'm useful. She never really trusted me, even after I let Lyta do a deep scan. And then, after I started flirting with Marcus....: Interest colored his thoughts a creamy gold. :Is this why you're a man-eater?: Mina laughed. :Absolutely. Ivanova has a hard time admitting vulnerability, and you have to not only admit it, but permit yourself to become more vulnerable, in order to form stable relationships. Once you have her as a friend, she's absolutely loyal, but it's hard to become her friend. And Marcus wasn't only interested in friendship.: He chuckled. :You're incorrigible, love. My wife the matchmaking psychologist.: :It worked.: :A romantic pragmatist.: :No, I'm a pragmatic romantic. Definitely more romantic than pragmatic.: They entered a room full of little girls and parents, and stood near the doorway. :What on Earth did you do to her hair?: :Didn't do it on Earth,: she replied flippantly. :I did it on Mars.: :Wherever. *Why?*: :The Corps was looking for me and Lex, not a very young woman and a little boy.: :Clever.: Across the room, Lex zipped her dance bag and looked up for her mother. Her eyes got wider. "Daddy!" she squealed, and threw herself across the room. "Munchkin!" :Did she touch the floor?: Bester asked his wife as he swept up their little girl. :Once or twice, I think.: :That's reassuring.: :Do you want me to shut up so you can give her the attention she deserves?: :No, I like having two conversations at once.: He grinned at her over Lex's head. It hit her then, like a wave-- he was safe. She didn't have to be alone any more. Mina's return smile was tired but just as happy. :Let's go home.: Yours in the Light, Angel -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- |Angel Trinkle Nobody expects the Psi Corps Inquisition! | |angelt@primenet.com Amongst our weaponry are such diverse | |Z'ha'dum in 2258 elements as: fear, surprise, ruthless | |*We know what you want* efficiency, an almost fanatical devotion | |Phoenix Phan to the Corps, and nice black uniforms. | |angel@casfs.org --If Bester were British | |Insert virtual blue ribbon to protest censorship on the net & everywhere.| =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=