AND NOW, PART 3:>Zack didn't like the chances; and he knew he was going to have to try and find her. And ask her.
~~~.
HALF AN HOUR later, the various ambassadors were exiting the Babylon Five council chambers, chittering and glabbering among themselves. Commander Susan Ivanova slid into the room, avoiding any sort of contact with the ambassadors which might be considered a threat, a marriage proposal, or just rude."He won," Sheridan said, in a quiet voice, to the gavel. It was just him, her, and the gavel in the room now.
The vote had been taken. The Centauri-backed proposal had won.
In the hopes of creating some sort of opposition, the Pak'ma'ra ambassador had attempted to push forwards another proposal for how to handle the situation. Only the Gaim and a few others even considered supporting that motion.
"He won," Sheridan said again.
"Yeah," Ivanova said. "Look, why don't you head on down to MedLab, get yourself checked out, okay?"
"What?" Sheridan asked, looking up at her. "Oh I'm fine. Really."
"That's what you said twice this week -- how many times do you have to practically collapse before you'll see one of the doctors?" Ivanova grumbled something in an obscure Russian dialect. "This is the Vorlon's fault."
"Now, now don't be so quick to judge," Sheridan said.
"Pfff. Ever since you started getting those lessons from the ambassador -- `beauty in the dark' or something -- your health's been suffering. You're skinnier than I've ever seen you, you're tense, you're as white as a Pak'ma'ra's backside -- don't ask."
"Fine." Sheridan coughed, standing up. He did his best to hide the wobble in one unsteady knee. "Fine, I'll go see a doctor."
"And not a Vorlon doctor," Ivanova clarified. "I'm almost tempted to say no Minbari doctors either." She looked at him, her hard eyes forcing his eyes to look back at her. "You *are* going to MedLab, aren't you?"
"I said I will, so I will," Sheridan assured her. Ivanova nodded, and left the room. Left him alone in the room.
John Sheridan sat back down.
Deep down, Sheridan knew that she was right. Kosh was pushing him hard.
And Delenn had asked him to trust her, to trust the Vorlons.
He just hoped what they asked wasn't going to kill him.
While he had no problem with laying down his life in the course of battle, Sheridan had oft admitted -- to himself -- that it was the prospect of dying off the battlefield that troubled him.
~~~.
MUCH LATER, in what would have been midnight on a planetary body, Londo made his way through the hedge maze."Hello, Mollari."
Londo spun around, seeing "Mr. Morden?" in a spot he hadn't been a few seconds ago.
"That's right. Is there anything else you want?"
'Else'. Londo's tentacles tightened in startled fear. "I don't..." he started to say, then remembered Captain Sheridan mentioning that G'kar had been in an accident, that G'kar was in MedLab on life support equipment. "You? It was you behind G'kar's little accident?"
Morden neither nodded, shook his head, or even shrugged. "As I understand it, ambassador, you asked for it."
"I asked for no such thing!"
"You wanted ambassador G'kar out of the way during the voting. Congratulations on winning."
"What is it you want?" Londo asked, sinking down to a bench.
Morden smiled, considering but not saying 'that's my question'. "As I understand it, there's a referendum coming up in the Centaurum."
"Yes, one week from now," Londo replied; puzzled. "Your associates are now concerned about Centauri agriculture?"
"They have many interests, Mollari. And they'd - we'd all - like you to lend your support to a particular side in this referendum." He smiled. "I'm sure you can convince enough of the right Centauri."
And that was the end of the conversation. Morden left Londo in quiet.
~~~.
MEANWHILES, Commander Ivanova woke up, hearing the beeping of her door over and over again. Not a nonstop-constantly one expected of door-to-door salesmen and pranksters; just a try-again--wait--try- again attitude of someone with urgent business."All right, alright, I'm coming," Susan said. She stopped halfway to the door, a robe covering up her body. There was a *feeling* in her gut.
She didn't like that sort of feeling.
Picking up a PPG, Ivanova finished crossing the room and opened the door. "What?" she wanted to know.
"Good afternoon, Commander," Lyta said, chipper and grinning. Susan was tempted to shoot her just for being chipper.
"Don't I know you?" Ivanova asked. If she'd seen this lady before, it hadn't been for a long while.
"Maybe," Lyta said. "You can call me 'Alex' if you like." _Keep it consistant,_ she said to herself. "You're the one person I forgot to ask the last time I was in the neighborhood," Lyta said with a smile. A smile that made Susan edgy; it wasn't a PsiCorp smile, but she thought it was bad news all the same.
"Ask what?"
"What do you want?"
"Well, I want to be able to close the door, and get some sleep." Lyta kept the smile, though she wondered at it at times. "Anything else? Anything you'd like after sleep?" Susan glared at her through tired eyes. "Such as the Captain?"
*That* got Ivanova's attention. "What about the Captain?"
"I understand he's not faring too well. Do you want him to get better? Do you want him retired, out of the way? What do you want?"
"The Captain'll get better," Susan said, confident of it.
"Are you sure? The Vorlons don't pull punches." Lyta started to *taptaptap* along the edges of Ivanova's mind. "And they can leave people wasteded hulks, just like PsiCorp does."
Lyta was speaking of herself, but Ivanova felt Lyta's mental tendrils in Susan's mind...and immediately figured it had been pulled from Susan's memories. The PPG went up lightning-fast, the muzzle-end resting on Lyta's nose.
"Get. Out." Ivanova said that, speaking of both her mind and her doorway.
"Very well," Lyta said, retracting her mind and taking a step back. "Good night, Commander. And the question remains open, just in case." She managed a smile, however weakly she actually felt it, nodded, and walked away.
Susan watched her leave. "Weird," she muttered, and headed back to bed, the door closing again.
She had gotten back under the covers of her bed, and was about to shut her eyes when her wristcomm beeped. Grumbling dark things, she tapped it and said "This had better be important."
"Well, ma'am," Corwin said, "remember when you told us to let you know the instant we detect a PsiCorps vessel on approach to the station? Well, there is one now."
Many things came to mind. Most of them were not repeatable in polite company. Some of them were not repeatable even in disreputable company.
"See how long you can stall them," Susan said. "Put them in line behind a lot of slow ships; I don't care; be creative." And ended the call.
Sleep called, it beckoned.
~~~.
tbc.next time - we see the effect of the initial change upon the PsiCorps itself.