From: Justin Donnelly Subject: A NON-convergence story. Date: Fri, 29 Nov 1996 17:58:18 +0000 (GMT) Hi, Its been ages since I last posted. Convergence seems to be a kind of Von-Neuman machine - converts everything into copies of itself, like a virus. I think the mailing list is still recovering. So here's a non-Convergence story I began writing a year ago and never finished, until now. I will post two chapters a day starting today and continuing on Monday of next week. It should be about eight chapters long. It's set in late season 2 of the Babylon 5 Universe (after "In the Shadow of Z'Ha'Dum"). Since it was started a year ago, the first few chapters were written without seeing any of season 3, but fortunately it's still all valid. I hope you all enjoy it. Justin. .......................................................................... SONGS OF THE DEAD by Justin Donnelly - PART I - He stood for a moment, just feeling how good and natural the orange was in his hand. The cool, dimpled flesh felt good in his palm. It was a deep, ripe, rich hue. It was perfectly spherical and snug in his hand, like a baseball. Dammit, this was a good orange. He pressed the door chime in front of him and the door slid open. Delenn must not mind visitors just now, he thought. Smiling, he walked through the door, which shut behind him, He was surrounded by the sound of the tinkling of Minbari crystal. You had to hand it to them, he thought. They certainly have style. It was so soothing he found his muscles relaxing involuntarily and he sighed softly. He was startled to feel a hand on his shoulder. He spun around to see Delenn's smiling face and found himself smiling right back. She was dressed in a flowing blue robe. "Um...the door just opened and I walked in," Sheridan said. "Indeed it is not often I permit visitors,", Delenn intoned with mock seriousness. "What can I do for you, captain? I'm afraid my government cannot move on the Centauri sanctions issue..." "No, no. It's not that." Sheridan shook his head, suddenly feeling clumsy and ridiculous standing surrounded by delicate Minbari crystal holding an orange. Ah hell, he thought. Just how stupid am I going to look by the time this is over? "Um...I thought you might like this. It's a gift," he explained. He held the orange out to Delenn, who took it carefully and held it out at arms length, as if it might explode. "Ah...thank you." She turned it around in her hand as if looking for an ON switch. Sheridan couldn't suppress a smile. "No, no. You eat it. It's called an orange." "Ah!". Delenn nodded. "Thank you, captain." She smiled, revealing perfect teeth and emphasising her delicate cheekbones. "We never did have any fresh food on the Agamemnon, and well, I guess oranges were what I missed most. On Babylon 5 they're grown all year round..." Delenn raised the orange to her mouth. "You have to take the skin off first," he smiled, taking the orange from her. "How you do that is different for everyone. Personally, I like to dig my fingers in and just tear it off. When that tangy aroma hits you, you can't stop your mouth watering...the juices start to flow down your arm and you ` just can't help yourself...its irresistible...", his voice trailed off. Delenn was staring at him wide-eyed, smiling. Silence. Soft crystal tinkling. The air was charged with energy. Delenn flushed and fidgeted with her hair as Sheridan fumbled with the orange. "Um...so. There you go," Sheridan mumbled, handing the orange back to Delenn. She took the orange in unsteady hands, bowed and left the room. Sheridan breathed out heavily, realising he had forgotten to draw breath. This was crazy. She was a Minbari. An ambassador, for God's sake. And a friend, a deeper part of him reminded. Delenn emerged from her room and walked up to Sheridan. "Captain, I too have a gift for you," she smiled warmly. She lifted her hand up revealing a chain from which was hanging a small disc of crystal. It was about an inch across and appeared to be completely black. Sheridan reached out and gingerly took it. It was perfectly smooth. Squinting in the soft light of Delenn's quarters, he could see no defects or scratches. The surface was like a pool of black oil. "It's beautiful, Delenn. Thank you." "Turn it over," she said, tilting her head in an impish way. Sheridan flipped it over in his palm. The disc turned invisible. Delenn smiled at the surprised look Sheridan gave her. He could still feel the weight of the disc in his hand, and indeed feel it's edges and surface, but he could clearly see his palm where the disc should be. He held it up to the light by its chain and smiled with child-like wonder as the chain twisted and the disc rotated in the light. Black. Invisible. Black. Invisible. "It is my biluminum," Delenn explained. "It is used for meditation. The two faces represent the past and the future. One clear as day, the other confusing and mysterious". "Which side is which?" Sheridan asked. Delenn raised her eyebrows and smiled. "An adroit question, Captain. That is up to you. The future is forever solidifying into the past. Which side is which is a philosophical question that has occupied generations of Minbari religious caste. In the end, it is a personal decision. But for you to even ask the question shows that you have..." she looked upwards, searching for the correct phrase, "a spiritual soul". Sheridan smiled, clasped the disc tightly in his hand. He took a step closer to Delenn, reached out and put his hand on her arm. "Thank you, Delenn," he whispered, looking into her eyes. They stood, surrounded only by the soft crystal tinkling. They were the only two people in the universe. "John, I -" Sheridan's link beeped. He stiffened. Scowled. Let her hand leave his. He looked into her eyes and seeing her nodding, turned and hit his link. "Sheridan. What?!", he snapped. Garibaldi didn't seem to notice Sheridan's tone of voice. "Captain, I've got a Narn data-smuggler in custody. Caught him trying to sell stolen data-crystals in the Zocalo. Pretty dumb place to do that kinda business if you ask me, I mean this guy is a veteran. Anyway, he was carrying some cylinders which turn out to be ship logs, launched when a ship is about to go down -" "The point, Mr. Garibaldi?". Sheridan was exasperated. Why was Garibaldi wasting his time with this? "Captain, one of the logs is marked Icarus." The edge of the biluminum bit into Sheridan's palm as his grip tightened around it... TO BE CONTINUED... Songs of the Dead is (c)1995 Justin J. Donnelly. From: Justin Donnelly Subject: Songs of the Dead II Date: Fri, 29 Nov 1996 17:58:54 +0000 (GMT) SONGS OF THE DEAD by Justin Donnelly - PART II - Close your eyes. Picture a perfectly square room with sullen grey walls. Got it? Now imagine a faulty light in the ceiling, making the light in one corner flicker and dance insanely. Under this silent frenzy sits a Narn. Upright. Passive. His hands resting casually on the round table in front of him. Looks like he's waiting for a drink he just ordered, doesn't he? Only on the table is not a Jovian sun-spot, but a small pile of glittering data-crystals. Now imagine a man standing beside the table, looking down at this Narn. A man called John Sheridan. "You are a very unpredictable man," Sheridan said slowly after a time. Each word tight as a drum. The Narn looked up, finally. "Really?" he sneered in mock surprise. "In what way, Captain?" Sheridan broke into a tight smile which said I Hate You. "A veteran data-smuggler -" "I am NOT a smuggler," the Narn interrupted. "...caught trying to sell stolen data-crystal in a public place. Now that surprises me..." Sheridan lifted his hand over the table and deposited a silver cylinder, standing on its end in the dead centre of the table. "...but not as much as this." The cylinder lay there - an 8" long titanium bar. The word ICARUS laser- stencilled on its side. It was blackened at one end, no doubt by its launch from the doomed ship. For a long moment, both Sheridan and Narn stared contemplatively at it. "Where did you get this?" Sheridan said quietly. The Narn shrugged. "I found it." "Where?" "On station." "Where?" "Green sector." "What deck? 25?" "Yes, that's it," the Narn nodded. Sheridan's eyes narrowed. "There are only 20 decks in Green sector," he rumbled. The Narn shook his head, blinking. "I meant Grey sector." Again silence as the light above the Narn danced its crazed dance. Sheridan leaned on the table, his eyes locked into the Narn's as his face came right up next to his. "Who are you working for, you son of a bitch?" he hissed. The flickering light gave up its tortured struggle and snapped out. The corner was plunged into darkness. Sheridan stared into the Narn's red eyes for an timeless instant. His handlink bleeped. Stepping back into the lit corner, he touched his link. "Sheridan." Garibaldi's voice was cautious as if preparing to deliver bad news. "Captain, the lab report is just in from that datalog. Based on composition and laser-stencilled codes, the lab-boys are certain it's genuine. That datalog came from the Icarus." "Thank you," Sheridan said. He turned to pick the datalog up from the now pitch corner and headed for the door. "Captain..." Sheridan turned in the doorway to see only the Narn's red eyes shining in the dark corner. "Be seeing you..." the Narn said. ~ ~ ~ John Sheridan sat in his quarters. The datalog stood on the table in front of him. There it was. All the answers to all the unanswerable questions he had ever asked in all his tortured nights without sleep and in all his days of merciless grief. Everything. On the table. In front of him. He was afraid. Afraid of what he might find and of what he might not find. He moved his hand out to take the cylinder, withdrew it. He shook his head and reached out again. He picked up the cylinder and examined the unscorched end. Depressing a circular panel and twisting, the top of the cylinder popped open with a hiss. He twisted slowly until the top fell off into his hand. Reaching inside, he produced a tiny, delicate data-crystal. The Icarus would have launched a dozen of such cylinders had a major disaster struck the ship, yet this could be the only surviving one. To think that such a delicate thing which holds the truth about my life could travel light years and end up here, in the palm of my hand, he thought. What if the log showed all the crew died? Could he face losing even the faint hope he still carried for Anna? He wasn't sure, but there was one thing he *was* sure of. He had to know. He walked to his data console and closed his eyes. He slipped the crystal into the reader. He coughed. "Access all messages by Sheridan, A." he said, keeping his voice as steady as he could. He felt so alone. He closed his eyes. The silence was agonising. And Anna sang to him... TO BE CONTINUED... Songs of the Dead is (c)1995 Justin J. Donnelly. From: Justin Donnelly Subject: Songs of the Dead III (fwd) Date: Mon, 2 Dec 1996 11:17:08 +0000 (GMT) Hello all, Hope you enjoyed Thanksgiving (those who are lucky enough to live where its celebrated, sounds like a great holiday - Christmas without the pressure). Here are parts III and IV of my story. I completed these a year ago so that means from tommorrow you'll be getting all new stuff. Please let me have feedback either in private or on the mailing list. Well, I'll see you all tommorrow with new stuff. Justin ......................................................................... SONGS OF THE DEAD by Justin J. Donnelly - Part III - WHIZZ! BANG! This wasn't working. ZZZZZING! KER-SPLAT! Definitely ineffective. ZAP! KA-BOOM! Garibaldi turned it off. His second favourite thing in the Universe just wasn't having the desired effect. Right about now, Duck Dodgers should have me snorting milk from my nostrils, he thought. He knew the Narn prisoner, Jern, had gotten him down. The creeping suspicion that this was not going to be a great day for law enforcement first came upon him after he had scanned all the stolen data-crystals the Narn had been carrying. Blank. Every last one of them. He remembered how they just sat there, twinkling innocently on his desk. As evidence, they were next to useless. They were stolen, yes, but blank. The most they could do is charge the Narn data-smuggler with stealing the crystals themselves, not any data. As for the ship's datalog, well, it wasn't stolen and there was no way to disprove Jern's claim that he had simply found it on station. He would get off with a heavy fine. They had to let him go, but Garibaldi had shuffled papers and let bureaucracy do what it did best. Nothing. The Narn could stew in a cell for the night. He was tired. Couldn't make it to the bed. Put his head down and closed his eyes. He would have to tell Sheridan in the morning. Things became fluid and distant. His limbs were heavy. Duck Dodgers was crushing some data-crystals and putting them in a glass. Sleep fell over him like a black veil. God, he needed a drink. ~ ~ ~ Delenn was preparing for bed when the door chimed. She frowned. It was late. She glided over to the door and opened it. The phantom of a friend stood there. "John!" She took his forearm and led him inside, into the glow of candlelight. The warm light did little to chase away the lines and shadows on his face. The gaunt look. "John, what is it?" Delenn asked, peering for a spark of recognition in his eyes. He looked into her eyes and blinked. The distant look faded a little. He seemed to see her for the first time. She guided him into the room and he sat down shakily. "Anna..." was all he could whisper. "What did you find on the datalog, John?" Her eyes widened and she held he hand up to her mouth in shock. "Do you mean...?" "No!" he shouted, his voice reverberating around the room, making crystal sing. He looked away from her. "No." he repeated, in a whisper of breath, "no, she isn't dead. I think." She held his hand. There was no romance in the touch. Simply compassion. Sheridan's body seemed to relax a little. Some of the darkness left his face. He looked at Delenn. "Delenn..." He tried again. "Delenn, I have to do something. Something stupid. Perhaps dangerous. But I have to do it." "What is it?" Delenn asked. "I can't say." He stood up, shaking his head. "I don't even know what I'm doing here." He made his way towards the door. "You want me to tell you its alright," Delenn said evenly, still sitting. Sheridan froze. "You want me to tell you that you should search to find those answers you want so much and break all barriers and defy all odds to set your soul at rest," Delenn said. Sheridan turned and regarded her silently. "You want me to say it is acceptable for you to be selfish. In these dark times, with all that you know, you could want me to say that?" she asked. "No. I don't," he said tightly. This was the old John Sheridan back again. Self-assured, but also angry now. "I just wanted some support." Delenn stood and faced him squarely. "I HAVE to know," he said. "No. You do not. There are things you do not need to know, but you John Sheridan think you can turn the Universe upside-down and shake it until all its secrets fall out. You are wrong. There are things you do not need to know, and things you SHOULD never know. You must go forward," Delenn said passionately. Sheridan shook his head. She just didn't understand. "I don't CARE if it hurts! Hell, I don't care if it kills me, Delenn! I am willing to accept the consequences-" "Anna is dead," Delenn said. Sheridan took a step backwards. The room reeled before his eyes. "Or worse," she added tightly, advancing on him. Delenn felt a pang of guilt in her chest. I've gone too far. Where did this come from? What terrible part of me has been wanting to make him believe this for a long time? There was silence. Delenn bowed her head in sadness. Sheridan's eyes narrowed. "To hell with you," he rumbled finally. "You don't understand. You don't have to go back. You have NO idea what it means to lose everything!" He stormed towards the door, which swung aside, as if afraid of him. Delenn sat in the soft light of her room, her face a mask of anguish. She felt John Sheridan's soul grow distant from her and dwindle. She ran her fingers through her long human hair. "But I do, John," she whispered. TO BE CONTINUED... Songs of the Dead is (c)1995 Justin J. Donnelly. From: Justin Donnelly Subject: Songs of the Dead IV Date: Mon, 2 Dec 1996 11:18:54 +0000 (GMT) SONGS OF THE DEAD by Justin J. Donnelly - Part IV - It was 11:30am when Garibaldi sat down at the Zocalo bar and gestured to catch the bartender's attention. "Whiskey on ice," he said. The bartender nodded, turned around and deposited a stubby glass of liquid in front of Garibaldi. Christ, that was so easy, thought Garibaldi, toying with the glass. It always was. He thought that maybe after so long he would have built up some instinctive aversion to the whole process of ordering a drink. But no, it was uncomfortably comfortable. Garibaldi was dressed in a long black coat and dark hat. He stank of booze and his movements were slow and steady - just like a drunk trying not to be a drunk. He knew how to act that way. He had before. He looked casually to his left where his quarry, Jern, was ordering the Narn equivalent of a whiskey on ice. Know your enemy, thought Garibaldi. Looking across to a corridor leading to the docking bays, he saw two station security officers standing there. He nodded almost imperceptibly and they started to make their way over through the crowd of disembarking passengers towards the bar. He reached into his coat pocket and felt the tiny round capsule there. When the security officers reached Jern, he had finished his first drink and was just putting the second to his lips when a hand fell on his shoulder. "May I see your station pass, please, sir?" Zac said pleasantly. Excellent, thought Garibaldi. Just enough politeness to irritate him, make him get angry and sloppy. He stood unsteadily and began walking carefully towards Jern. Jern was muttering, protesting the harassment he was suffering as he fumbled for his station pass and although Garibaldi couldn't make out exactly what he was saying he thought he heard the phrase "Kiss my pouch" more than once. He produced the pass and gave it to Zac. Zac was looking at the hologram on the pass, shaking his head slowly, his lower lip protruding in mock doubt at its validity when Garibaldi lurched into Jern. "Happy new year!" he shouted, surrepticiously popping the capsule into Jern's glass. It was April. Jern was not amused and as they clashed, there was a moment when Narn and human eyes locked. Jern's eyes were cold. Those eyes hold secrets, thought Garibaldi, just before Zac pulled him away from Jern and pushed him on his way. Garibaldi disappeared into the crowd and stumbled down a corridor. As he rounded the corner, his movements snapped back to the steady, sure ones of a very alert man. >From his coat pocket he produced a palm-sized black box. The box's small square screen lit up and a soft, regular beeping sound came from it. Zac came up the corridor, looking over his shoulder. He approached Garibaldi. "He drank it" Zac said. Garibaldi grinned. He adjusted the image on the box, carefully. This was a prototype portable neutrino detector. Straight from Earth Alliance R&D. Right now, a small neutrino source was working its way through Jern's digestive system. Since neutrinos are particles which can pass through a light year of lead with ease, Jern could be on the other side of a planet and Garibaldi would have no problem tracking him. This was going to be fun. Garibaldi's link beeped. It was Invanova from C&C. She was angry. When Ivanova was angry you paid attention. Garibaldi paid attention. When it was over, and his ears had stopped ringing, he handed the neutrino tracker to Zac. "You'd better follow him. Keep me up to date on his location, okay? If he does anything strange or enters any restricted areas, holler." Garibaldi said. Zac nodded. "I've gotta go find someone" Garibaldi said. ~ ~ ~ Garibaldi was at his desk, intent on his monitor, muttering inventive expletives. Ones handed down from his father's side of the family. Ones he kept in a small corner of his mind which he only opened, dusted off and used with venom on special occasions. This was such an occasion. His door chimed. "Come in" The door swung open and he saw Ambassador Delenn glide into the room. She was worried by something. She was hiding it well, but from years of observing people hiding things he could tell she was trying to avoid wringing her hands. It showed in the tightness of her jaw. "What can I do for you, Ambassador?" he said, standing. Delenn bowed briefly. "Mr. Garibaldi, I feel that Captain Sheridan is in an irrational state of mind after viewing the Icarus' datalog. I was hoping that you would speak with him-" "Wish I could, Ambassador. But he's missing." Delenn blinked. She opened her mouth as if to say something. She said nothing. She looked at the floor to gather her thoughts. "He logged a flight plan an hour ago and took off in a Starfury. Only he didn't just fly around and come back to the barn. He went into the jumpgate. And since we can't track anyone in hyperspace, we have no idea where he is. Commander Ivanova was...displeased." Delenn felt weak. Images flashed in her head. Icarus. Anna. Z'ha'dum. Shadows. She shook the demons from her mind. She breathed deeply and slowly. "Whatever he's up to, he didn't want any of us to become involved." Garibaldi said. "Mr. Garibaldi. I must ask something of you. Do you know what is on the Icarus' datalog?" "That datalog is evidence in a criminal trial, Ambassador." he said sternly. "And until it gets to an Earth Alliance investigation committee the data on that log doesn't leave my office." Defeat showed on Delenn's face. "I understand, Mr. Garibaldi. Thank you for you time." She turned to leave. "So you had better look at it in here" Garibaldi said, just as sternly, as he turned his monitor to face Delenn. Delenn gave a small smile of gratitude and sat. Garibaldi punched some keys. "The technical logs, video, audio and text records are all there - until the ship reached the Rim. Two days after leaving one of the frontier jumpgates at the Rim, all records are missing. Just gone." he said. "They show nothing out of the ordinary up until they were cut off." "And the personal logs?" Delenn asked. "There are personal log entries and messages from 136 of the crew. The rest are missing also. There is only one message from Anna Sheridan on the datalog, but 68 were logged." A list of names ran down the length of the computer screen. Delenn scanned the screen. 68 messages from Anna Sheridan. So many. They must have been in love, she thought. No wonder John had looked like he had seen a ghost. Too much past. Not for the first time, she wondered who this Anna Sheridan was. What kind of soul would drive a man to travel light years, risking everything he had for it? A better one than mine, Delenn wondered? She dismissed the thought. Draal had often told her that souls could not be compared do easily. Still, the thought bothered her. "Damn." Garibaldi said, bringing her out of her thoughts. "Guess who else is missing from the personal files." Delenn understood and nodded. "Morden." she said, feeling suddenly cold. As if his very name had invited some dark spirit into the room. Garibaldi nodded. His punched some more keys. "He's going to Z'Ha'Dum." said Delenn with certainty. "No, I don't think so." Garibaldi said. "Look at this." Delenn looked at what appeared to be technical reports from the Icarus datalog. "You see, according to this, all data from the logs were broadcast by the primary and secondary transmitters on the Icarus as well as being released in the form of datalogs." Garibaldi explained. "I do not understand what relevance that has. The data has been transmitted and no one has received it." said Delenn. "The primary transmitter on the Icarus was a standard tachyon beam, allowing instant communication. But the secondary transmitter is a simple radio antenna. The message is still out there - moving at the speed of light away from us, but still out there. I think the captain is going to outrun the message to pick it up." Garibaldi said. Delenn nodded. It made sense. "Now by my calculations, the only jumpgate far out enough is the Centauri one at the Oona nebula, out on the Rim. I think he's headed there." said Garibaldi positively. Garibaldi's link beeped. It was Zac. Delenn melted back into her thoughts. So John was not going to Z'Ha'Dum. That at least was something. But this whole episode with the partial datalog disturbed her. Garibaldi finished talking to Zac. "Jern has just gone into the alien sector." he said. This was becoming messy. And Garibaldi liked things clean. He checked the charge on his PPG and strode towards the door. Delenn punched some buttons on the console and looked at the photograph of Anna Sheridan. Long blonde hair. Very human. Very different. She smiled sadly. Then she hit the intercom to contact someone in the alien sector. TO BE CONTINUED... Songs of the Dead is (c)1995 Justin J. Donnelly. From: Justin Donnelly Subject: Songs of the Dead V Date: Tue, 3 Dec 1996 16:12:35 +0000 (GMT) Hello all, Okay, here you go - new stuff! Its been a year coming. Hope its worth the wait. As always, feedback is very, very welcome. The second bit of this part is kind of multi-layered. Enjoy! Justin .......................................................................... SONGS OF THE DEAD by Justin J. Donnelly - Part V - Hyperspace. The ancient mathematics of hell given physical form. A blood-red inferno of twisted physics where distance and time and light and darkness and fear and love were meaningless. A place where Hell boiled over into our Universe. A tiny speck traversed this godless wasteland, like a lost soul wandering through damnation for a long-forgotten sin. The speck was John Sheridan's Starfury. In a Universe which pivotted on the actions of this speck, anything was possible. Infinite good, infinite evil. Pure light, distilled darkness. Through this maelstrom Sheridan wandered, chasing a song. Sheridan hit a stud to bring up a display of the Starfury's fuel levels. The power plant driving the engines was fine - fuel was his problem. The display was flashing a sombre orange - he was past the half-way mark on his fuel pod. "Computer, override safety parameters - channel reserve fuel into main fuel pod." The flight panel beeped compliance. He had never gone on such a long mission in a Starfury - the Oona nebula was way out at the edge of Centauri space and this was pushing the limits of a Starfury's capabilities. He was in Centauri space by now. He had detected a large distant ship in hyperspace an hour ago - probably a Centauri patrol vessel. Quite easy to avoid when flying a single small Starfury. Hyperspace swirled madlly outside the window. His mind drifted. So...here he was. He had made his decision. It was now Anna or death. Hearing her voice again had made any alternative impossible to live with. It was painfully brief - less than a minute of her singing, savagely cut off by static and then silence. He must have the rest. Maybe there would be some clue in the rest of the log, something that would mean she was alive and safe and waiting for him somewhere, so that when he found her, when they held each other, they would laugh and cry and and shake their heads at their own silliness and for years to come remember the time when they were apart and how they fretted and it would seem like an old dream and thank God they were together. It was possible. ~ ~ ~ The door slid aside. Delenn felt as frightened as she did when she first went to temple on Minbar. She always felt that way when entering Kosh's quarters. They had nothing to which her mind could hold on to. No trinkets, no art, no personal items at all. Just brown walls dimly lit in jade and a stained-glass screen hiding one corner. A cocktail of poisonous gasses billowed silently from the ceiling to cover and claim the floor. Before her change, Delenn could survive in this environment with simply an occasional boost of oxygen - now she wore a full breather mask - yet another penance to pay for her change, she reflected. Kosh was there. Standing silently in the corner, watching with one green eye - she hadn't noticed him until her eyes had adjusted to the darkness. She bowed briefly. "Kosh." His head seemed to nod ponderously in her direction. "Kosh, I must confess something to you," she looked down as shame flickered briefly over her face. "Sheridan has gone in search of...of his wife. He has put himself in terrible danger. I knew there was a risk he would do this." She sighed, "I should have informed you, but I assumed he would..." she shook her head, puzzled "come to his senses. He did not. I made a terrible mistake, Kosh. Please forgive me". Kosh's single eye dilated and contracted slowly - she felt the stare on her skin, on her soul. Silence. Uncomfortable, Delenn said "Are you going to bring him back?" Kosh's translator wheezed musically. "No." "Then you are going to make sure he comes to no harm..?" Delenn offered. "No." She blinked in disbelief. Breathing was harder in her mask. She looked at the stained glass to compose herself. "Kosh - you know how important he is to us - to our cause. You cannot let him do this." Cold panic burned in her stomach. The thought of John in danger made her palms tingle with perspiration. Kosh's head angled at her silently, as if studying her. "Kosh, why will you not save him?" she demanded flatly. "It is...necessary." She nodded, swallowed her anguish. Kosh knew best. He always did. "Will he die?" she whispered, deflated. A long pause. "It is his decision," Kosh intoned. Delenn nodded. Kosh knew best. Her hands kneeded against each other. She looked up at Kosh for an answer. "What must I do?" A pause. Kosh seemed to be thinking... "Pray." to be continued... (c)1995 From: Justin Donnelly Subject: Songs of the Dead VI Date: Thu, 5 Dec 1996 19:39:18 +0000 (GMT) At last, I get to write a Londo scene! yes! Justin ........................................................................... SONGS OF THE DEAD by Justin Donnelly - Part VI - Garibaldi had just spent the last two hours running down corridors, shouting orders at his security teams, and scanning the station's security net for Jern. Two hours dashing from sector to sector, through levels that were just a line on a map to him this morning. Two hours trying to track someone who knew how to blend into the shadows even when neutrino-tagged. He was loving every minute of it. He was in Green sector, from where a report of someone matching Jern's description had come. Now, the security grid gave a definite neutrino reading in Grey sector. Two teams were on route to intercept and secure the area. He rounded a corner to strode for the transport tube, checking his PPG charge. "Ah, Mister Garibaaaaldi!" Garibaldi froze, then deflated visibly. That cry was one of the few things he knew that could make him bow to inevitability. He sighed and turned to face Londo, who was approaching with one of his furious glares. "Ambassador, this is not a good time--" "Ah! For both of us then! For you, it is not a good time to be *pestered* by Ambassadors, and for me it is not a good time to have *your* security man impound my personal property. If a Centauri Ambassador cannot carry his ceremonial sword," he indicated an invisible map in the air between them, "from point A to point B without having it seized by your men then--" Garibaldi raised a tense finger. His face had tightened, ready to chew Mollari out, when an idea bloomed in his mind. His face softened, the finger dropped. He smiled broadly. "You're absolutely right, Ambassador. I'll have them release your property imeadiately." Londo's looked confused, then smiled. "Well!" he laughed, shrugging elaborately - arms raised as if to hug Garibaldi. "Thank you, Mister Garibaldi! Nothing inspires me more than seeing diplomacy in action! For this, you will come to the casino sometime; I will buy you a drink, yes?" "Sure. Sometime." said Garibaldi flatly. Londo nodded as Garibaldi walked past him into the transport tube. Time to light the blue touchpaper and stand well back, thought Garibaldi. "Oh, just thought I'd let you know, the Captain decided to make use of the Oona nebula jumpgate. I told him you wouldn't mind - in the interests of diplomacy." Garibaldi smiled as the elevator doors closed, covering Londo's look of disbelief. Londo scowled. "We'll see about this..." he hissed in the empty corridor. ~ ~ ~ The Oona nebula had known quiet solitude for many years, its only companion a rudely indifferent Centauri jumpgate. Without warning, the jumpgate ignited and spat forth a lone Starfury. Sheridan breathed out deeply. Coming out of hyperspace always took his breath away. He looked around the starfield in front of him, thankful his eyes were no longer assaulted by the red of hyperspace. There it was, to port. The Oona nebula - a huge octopus with delicate blue legs splayed across the heavens. Along its edge glittered young white-hot stars, making the nebula look shiny and pristine. He looked to his navi-computer, set a course for the nebula and opened the radio receiver on the Icarus' emergency channel frequency. There was the empty hiss of the nebula. Was it his imagination or was there the faintest of signals at semi-regular intervals under all that hiss? Just a trace of modulation in all that natural noise? He would find out. He fired the thrusters. ~ ~ ~ Delenn sat in a ring of warm candlelight. She was the only person in the Universe - the shadows claimed everything but the single candle and her face. The ritual was called Genniel. It was the Minbari ritual of the acceptance of inevitable loss. In all her life, Delenn had performed the ceremony just three times. The last had been on the night of her change. She smiled sligthtly, remembering how she had invited her old friend Jeffery Sinclair to join her in the ceremony, which is usually very private. But that had been a dark night in which the shadows began to act. Garibaldi, the Earth Alliance president and the Narn were all victims of the terrible ancient enemy that night. And so, she completed the ceremony alone. As she was doing now. Delenn picked up a vial of sand she had brought from her last trip to Minbar and held it over her outstreched palm. She closed her eyes and let herself feel what she was saying goodbye to. She tilted the vial and a gentle shower of glittering sand filtered through her fingers until the vial was emptied. She clutched her fingers into a fist... so few grains left in her hand. The rest...forgotten. The forgetting accepted. She was relaxed as she opened her eyes and coldly snuffed out the candle. to be continued... (c) 1996 From: Justin Donnelly Subject: Songs of the Dead VII Date: Wed, 11 Dec 1996 18:34:50 +0000 (GMT) Hello all, Okay, here's the penultimate chapter of Songs. This chapter has a lot of action in it (well relative to the previous ones I suppose). I haven't received much feedback at all and the list seems to be rather slow at the moment. Has Convergence scared a lot of people off or are people unusually busy this time of year? Please, I would love to get more feedback. I've been asked to write a short story for a collection of short stories and and am using Songs as practice - I would really appreciate feedback. Ali, Julie, Felicia where are you all? Is it really that bad? (You can tell me that too.) Hope you enjoy it, Justin ............................................................................. SONGS OF THE DEAD by Justin Donnelly - Part VII - Garibaldi padded down the dim corridor in Grey-18, neutrino tracker humming, PPG held loosely in hair-trigger fingers. He paused and peered into the gloom. A right turn just ahead. His tracker said Jern was just around that corner. Garibaldi breathed out through O-shaped lips, then smiled. Damn. He loved these showdowns. Though he would never tell anyone, for days afterwards he would feel *alive*. Assuming he survived. A sound. He froze, wide-eyed, primed like a trap. There it was again - a high-pitched chitter - over as soon as it began. And the response - Jern's hoarse conspiratorial whisper. Garibaldi was glad now that he had drawn his PPG early; drawing it from his hip now would create a whine as it charged up which would give his presence away. He gingerly put the (now redundant) neutrino tracker on the floor and took his PPG in both hands. Jern was still whispering as Garibaldi leapt around the corner. "Security - freeze!" Jern was there, Narn eyes wide in surprise. But next to him, no - towering *over* him: a chilling ebony black widow spider - spindly legs claiming the corridor, chitinous black head turning to stare at Garibaldi. He shuddered. His PPG blazed. Most of the blasts exploded on corridor walls, while one hit the abomination in the leg. The thing (no other word fitted better) shimmered and was gone. Garibaldi whirled instinctively to face Jern (time for a mental breakdown later, he figured). Jern had the muzzle of a wicked-looking laser pistol in his face. He fumbled with his PPG. Click. Damn. Overheated. He knew for sure he was to be bisected by that laser beam. Oh well, he thought, better brace myself for searing pain. Hope I don't have to go crawling around the station mortally wounded again. Jern fell to the ground, dead; his laser clattering to the floor, unfired. Garibaldi blinked and double-taked between his cooling PPG and Jern. Had he fired? From the gloom beyond Jern a shape loomed. Gliding and monocular. Kosh. Garibaldi realised he hadn't breathed in a long time, and did so in relief. He pointed at Jern as Kosh stopped, hovering over the body. "What happened to him? Was that you?" There was a delay as Kosh's translator wheezed musically. "An accident." Garibaldi nodded. That would do. "What...what was that thing?" he shuddered involuntarily. "The enemy." Garibaldi studied Jern's corpse. The face was twisted in pain. He sighed. He'd learned far too much today. He looked back at Kosh. Somehow a high-five didn't seem appropriate. ~ ~ ~ The Starfury sailed towards the huge nebula, antennae feeling ahead, its cockpit filled with the hiss of the radio speaker. Sheridan's ear was primed to every crackle, ready to hear any fluctuation. There was a sudden burst of static, an electronic shriek and then a voice singing clearly, reverberating around the cockpit, like crystal. A woman's voice; singing Ave Maria. Anna. Then Sheridan's Universe was only the vastness of the starfield ahead and Anna. He didn't feel the rapturous grin expand on his face. He *did* feel each crystal sharp not make his soul soar. He felt a glow of warmth, as if encircled by warm candle-light. Then, something desecrated his mind. Cold, damp, black fingers raked over it, roughly fondling his thoughts, his feelings, his memories. His shudder came suddenly and hard. Sheridan's body was instantly cold, his mind awake as if just slapped. Without warning, an immense black spider exploded from the nebula, its scream tearing through his mind, like a terrible new born infant. In primal instinct, Sheridan's trembling fingers fumbled for the starfury's plama cannon controls, then dropped off when the thing (was it a ship?) turned towards him - a vast nightmare causing the stars to wink out with its blackness, its outstreched 'fingers' eager to embrace him, and - good God - it was still singing as it loomed towards him. This was not Anna. Something inside Sheridan told him this wasn't even death - this was worse. Dead or worse, Delenn had said. She was right. His soul lurched across the parsecs, through nebula and planet and shockingly empty space - back to what he had: a vast war he wanted to join now more than ever, an inferno he would gladly throw his soul upon to keep the darkness at bay, back to the frightened brave group called the Army of Light, to his friends, to Delenn. He gritted his teeth into a snarl of determination, flipped the starfury over and rammed the throttle home. He was slammed back into his seat as he shot away from the abomination behind. Something dark and threatening brushed over his mind again. A warning? He hit the aft-view camera stud and was chilled by the sight of that irregular monster, almost a hole in the nebula behind him, as it effortlessly gained on him in an obscene embrace, swallowing the heavens. "Interception with unknown ship in 50 seconds..." intoned the cockpit computer. The jumpgate ws there: a brilliant point of light as if over Bethelehem, then a steadily growing structure. He sent the activation signal ahead. The jumpgate ignited, holding a vortex of orange light - his only escape. "Interception in 30 seconds..." He checked aft-view: the other vessel claimed the entire sky behind him. The heat gauges of his engines flashed an angry red. Aw hell, this was going to be close. "Interception in 20 seconds..." A pink beam erupted from the shadow ship, lanced past the madly tearing starfury and struck the jumpgate. A sequence of explosions ran along the length of the gate in a firey chain and it flew apart into red-hot spinning schards that sailed away indifferently. Sheridan swallowed. So this thing wants me alive, he thought. The thought chilled him. No other jumpgate for light years. "Interception in 15 seconds...." Anna or Death, Sheridan thought, shooting through the debris. Not this... "Interception in 10 seconds..." "Delenn," he whispered, setting the self-destruct. to be continued... (c) 1996 From: Justin Donnelly Subject: songs VIII Date: Mon, 23 Dec 1996 18:40:04 +0000 (GMT) SONGS OF THE DEAD by Justin Donnelly - Part VIII - Sheridan punched in the code. SELF-DESTRUCT PRIMED flashed on the console in angry red. Aft of his speeding Starfury, the immense shadow ship walled off half of the universe behind him. Sheridan was convinced it was not going to ram him like a bug, but rather it wanted to swallow him whole. The thought sent a sudden shudder through him. "5 seconds to impact with unknown vessel," spoke the computer dryly. Sheridan cursed - now that he *wanted* his life back, pain and fear and warts and all, it was being taken from him. "4." He flipped the safety from the red stud by his left hand. "3." He smiled grimly. At least I'm going to tear this thing apart from the inside - give it the worst indigestion of its life. His finger toyed with the self-destruct button. How would Delenn's life have gone with him in it, he wondered. A brilliant point of light appeared ahead of him, brightened into a blinding miniature star and shot back into the distance, trailing a blazing blue vortex of light. A jumpgate - forming right on top of him. A squat, vicious-looking Centauri warship shot out of the vortex, guns blazing. The volley flew over him, slamming into the shadow vessel. The scream in his mind was one of pain and fury. Sheridan saw his chance, and gunned the engines. He shot past the warship at the vortex that lead to hyperspace, engines roaring, readouts flashing bright red in warning at the strain of acceleration. The last thing he saw in his aft-view camera was the Centauri ship exploding spectacularly. He lost conciousness. ~ ~ ~ Garibaldi and Delenn were travelling in a transport tube towards the Garden in silence. "Do you think he is alright?" It was Delenn who had broken the silence. "What? Oh, yeah -- I'm sure," Garibaldi said absently. "Dr. Franklin gave him the once over. He limped back on minimun life support." "Ah," said Delenn. Garibaldi was studying her. "Aparently, he encountered some sort of unknown out there. Almost killed him. Some kind of black ship --" Delenn stiffened. "What? Do you know anything about this?" Delenn shook her head, no. Kosh knew best. She strained a smile. "You look tired, Mr. Garibaldi," she said, looking at his creased face. He nodded, sighing. "Didn't get much sleep last night." Delenn nodded. Another joins our cursed ranks, she thought. ~ ~ ~ It was approaching night in the cylindrical garden. Patches of green and rich brown overrun by twisting rivers and lakes hung a mile over Sheridan's head. Along the length of the cylinder, the patchwork faded into the hazy distance. He was in the rock garden; "a haven for Zen skinny-dipping" Delenn had called it once. He could still see her bemused smile at his laughter. Thank God he would see that smile again, shaded with all the other emotions he could possibly induce in her. "I'm glad you're all right." The voice behind him was Garibaldi's. "So I can kick your ass to brown sector and back again." Sheridan turned, smiling. Garibaldi was there, and beside him, looking calm and radiant as usual, Delenn. "No need, Mr. Garibaldi. I'm sure the Babylon 5 senate commitee will do it for you..." Garibaldi stared hard, not returning the smile. Sheridan nodded, smile retreating. "I'm sorry, Michael. I guess I just lost control. Won't happen again." "That's what you said the last time -- remember?" Sheridan nodded, chastened. "That door is closed, Michael. For good. No more crazy solo missions. I know better now." Garibaldi nodded, apparently finally satisfied, but still frowning. *Him, too?*, thought Sheridan. Garibaldi shook his head, finally letting relief come to the surface. "Well, I'm glad you made it back." He slapped Sheridan's arm. Suddenly, they had mirroring smiles. Sheridan turned to Delenn. He could see the smile hiding under her face. "Forgive me?" he grinned. Her smile finally dawned. She ran to him and they hugged tightly. Finally, Delenn had to prise herself from him, smiling. Garibaldi examined his shoes uncomfortably. "Buy me dinner and I shall consider the possibility," Delenn said with mock aloofness. Sheridan nodded enthusiastically, took her hand and pressed something into it. Delenn opened her fingers to see a shiny black disc there - her biluminum. She looked up at him. "You have decided which side is which?" Delenn asked. He nodded, smiling a little sadly. "Both." Delenn nodded. They only remembered his presence when Garibaldi ahemed loudly. "Is it just me or is everyone around her talking like a damned Vorlon?" he said, exasperated. "Greetings." said Kosh. Garibaldi's shoulders leapt in fright and he spun around. Kosh was standing there at the entrance to the Zen garden. "Kosh," Delenn nodded. Garibaldi phewed. "*Please*, don't do that ambassador." he said. Mercifully, his comm beeped. "Excuse me." He stepped aside to take the message. "Is there something we can help you with, ambassador?" Sheridan offered. There was a long pause. They felt Kosh staring at them, meticulously judging them in some unfathmable way. Only the tinkling of wind chimes showed that time had not been frozen. "Yes." said Kosh, leaving. Sheridan nodded blankly at the now empty doorway. Delenn turned him around to face her. "John, what did you find out there?" His face grew sharp and dark. "I'd rather not talk about that; but I know what I found right here --" He pointed to the solid stone beneath their feet. We'll be together forever, he thought, staring into her eyes. Delenn hugged him tightly. He didn't see her sad smile. Yes, when the time was right, he would make the ultimate sacrifice. Garibaldi approached them, frowning. "What is it?" Sheridan asked, worried. "The Centauri have just invaded Drazi space." All three turned, and faced the garden, Delenn and John's hands entwining. The light in the garden faded, and darkness fell. THE END (C)1996