Address criticisms to [xazqrten@cox.net]
   
******************************

Monday in a top secret Earthforce facility:

   "I understand you got a video message from your wife, Chuck," said Mack 
Forester. "Hell, I didn't even know you were married."

   Charles Wayne held up his left hand. "The ring's been there all the time, 
Mack. You just aren't very observant," replied Charles.

   "How do you rate getting an outside communication?"

   "It wasn't a regular communication. I got a recording on a data crystal and 
that's how my reply was sent out."

   "Yeah, but the rest of us don't even get that much. It must have been a real 
humdinger."

   "Curiosity killed the cat, Mack. But, if it'll make you feel better, I'll let you 
watch it."

   Charles put the data crystal in the player on the table and started it. The 
message from Susan played out.

   "I'm sorry, Chuck. If that's what it takes to get an outside communication, 
I'll pass."

   "There's nothing more I can do than the answer I’ve already sent. So, I just 
have to wait until we finish this phase of the job."

   "You have a beautiful wife. Where did you find her?"

   "I wouldn't exactly say that I found her. I think how I survived our first 
meeting would be a much more interesting question."

   "Would you care to explain that?"

   Charles related how he and Susan had met and what had been the result.

   "Jesus Christ, Chuck. If that's how you met her, why in God's name did 
you ever marry her. I mean, what changed her mind about you or vice 
versa?"

   "That's a whole other story. I'm hungry. Let's get some lunch," said 
Charles.

   They were half finished with lunch when their project supervisor joined 
them.

   "I'm sorry to hear about your loss, Charles," said Eddie Foster.

   "That's life," replied Charles.

   "Eddie, you should have him tell you about how he met his wife. It's a real 
horror story," said Mack.

   Charles gave him a condensed version of the story he had told Mack.

   "I'll give you this, Charley. You are a real trip," commented Eddie.

   "You've told us how you met her, Chuck. How about telling us how you 
ended up married to her?" asked Mack.

   Over the remainder of lunch and through two cups of after dinner coffee, 
Charles related to them how he had come to be married to Susan.

   "What's she do now, Charles?" asked Eddie.

   "She's going to be the next CINC of the Department of Design and 
Procurement. They gave her the assignment when she got her star."

   "Got her star?" asked Mack.

   "When she was promoted to brigadier general. Didn't you know I was 
married to an Earthforce officer?"

   "Not until now," replied Mack.

   "I knew she was an officer, Charles. I had no idea she was that high up on 
the totem pole," commented Eddie.

   "Her exploits and career biography were all over the news when that Drakh 
task force attacked at Mars. How could you not know who she is?"

   "I just didn't figure you to marry a mundane," said Eddie.

   "She's not a mundane, guys. She's a very powerful telepath. She can go 
through my barriers like a rock through wet tissue paper," replied Charley.

   "There aren't any telepathic senior officers in Earthforce, Chuck," 
commented Mack.

   "Think what you want, but I'm covering all bets and giving a hundred-to-
one odds for any amount. How much do you want to lose?" asked Charles.

   "I think I believe you, Charles. Mack, you may lose your bet," said Eddie.

   "You're not kidding, are you?" asked Mack, seriously.

   "No. The only reason she isn't here with me is that she is largely untrained, 
and she has other duties that take precedence. Don't misunderstand me. I 
spent all our free time on our honeymoon, free time being when she wasn't 
killing me with love, teaching her how to use her abilities. You're a high P-
12, Mack, but you don't ever want to tangle with her. She can completely 
block you out of her mind, and kill you bare-handed while you're trying to 
figure out what's going on. She was latent until we got involved on Babylon 
5," explained Charles.

   "It's time we put our noses to the grindstone again, fellows. The brass are 
happy about what we've learned so far, but they want more details," said 
Eddie.

   "We'd be more efficient if Chuck would teach us some of his tricks. He's 
ten times better than we are at getting information out of their scaly skulls," 
complained Mack.

   "I've already explained that those techniques can't be taught to any telepath 
who is not a member in good standing with the Glenthorian Telepath Guild," 
noted Charles.

   "Not a problem, Charles. You said the guild rules don't prevent you from 
using their 'special' tricks to get what we want from these Drakh, and that's 
all you contracted to do. Mack, if you and the other telepaths want to learn 
them, I suppose you'll just have to go to the planet and plead your case," 
commented Eddie. "Now, let's get a move on. The Drakh await our 
pleasure." 

   "You haven't even hinted at how one becomes a member of this guild, 
Chuck," complained Mack.

   As they walked down the passageway, Charles began to explain the guild. 
"To join the guild, you must first become a citizen of one of the recognized 
countries on the planet Glenthor. For human telepaths, this is not really 
difficult. The Glenthorians don't have any natural telepaths and never have, 
according to their own history records. The guild operates differently from 
Psi Corps or its replacement. To join the guild, you must also be a telepath 
with a clean record. This is verified by deep scanning. To be taught the 
guild's special tricks, you have to be a telepath in good standing and undergo 
rigorous training. Several times during the training you are deep scanned to 
recheck your honesty and clarity of purpose and your subconscious motives. 
If at the end of the training you are still in one piece mentally, you become a 
member of the inner staff. The guild has the means to render a telepath 
unable to further use his abilities. It is a reversible procedure. Play the game 
according to the rule and no problems arise. Cheat and lose the use of your 
telepathic abilities. We don't force anyone to join the guild. You don't have 
to be a member of the guild to work as a telepath or use your abilities to 
make a living, as long as it doesn't include breaking established law. 
However, some companies insist on a guild association for insurance 
purposes. If a telepath is accused of using his abilities to break the law, the 
guild will ascertain the truth of the matter. If he is guilty, the guild disables 
his abilities. If he is innocent, the guild certifies that to the authorities. In the 
four years the guild has been operating, only one telepath working legally on 
the planet has run afoul of the guild. She can no longer use her telepathic 
abilities. However, we have had to deal with a number of unregistered 
telepaths. They were punished in the same manner. Now they have to work 
like any other non-telepath to make a living. Lyta Alexander founded the 
guild. She set up the standards of conduct for the guild's operations."  

   Mack asked, "So all you have to do is register with the guild. You don't 
have to join it. Then, you can go about your legal business and forget it 
exists? No periodic checks?"

   "That's how it works, Mack."

   "As far as becoming a member, and training for the special stuff, you have 
to ask for it, pursue it, and pass the selection criteria. Nobody is forced to do 
any of it. If you want to remain untrained that's your business," emphasized 
Charles.  

******************************

   The interrogation room was a rectangle of six by seven meters. It was 
equipped with a chair that had restraints and a number of pieces of 
equipment, mounted in racks, for the monitoring of various bodily functions. 
Mirrors covered all four walls. Behind the mirrored surfaces on three sides 
were observation rooms.  Charles Wayne was watching the proceedings 
from one of the observation rooms. He was wearing a transceiver headset so 
he could send a verbal description of what he observed to a recorder. Two P-
12 telepaths were sitting in the other room equipped as was Charles.

   The interrogation began with the Drakh safely strapped in the chair. A 
human interrogator was sitting behind a small table. He was asking questions 
in Interlac. The P-12s were attempting to scan the Drakh as the human 
interrogator asked him questions. It had been established by Charles that this 
Drakh understood Interlac. His job was to use skills he had been taught by 
Lyta and her people on Glenthor to attempt to scan the Drakh without its 
being aware of the scan. It was hoped that the frontal scan attempts would 
provide enough distraction for Charles to do his work.

   Charles closed his eyes and relaxed. He soon found himself on a deserted 
road. It was twilight, but there weren't any stars in the sky. He began walking 
along the road. He had no idea whether he was going in the correct direction. 
It was much like it had been the last time. If he were lucky he would meet 
the Drakh who had been so helpful the last time. It seemed like days since he 
had started walking. Just ahead was and older Drakh. It was the same Drakh 
he had met the last time he had been here. This time, he convinced the Drakh 
to take him to the library. There he found language texts and references. The 
old Drakh was happy to help him find the cross-references that allowed texts 
of different languages to be translated into one another. Charles got 
comfortable at a table and began reading. The old Drakh closed his eyes and 
fell asleep as Charles continued to work furiously over the texts.

   Charles had been working for what seemed to be two weeks. He awakened 
the old Drakh and asked, "Do you have any translations from your native 
language to any of the Earth languages?"

   The old Drakh smiled and led him to a shelf of books that was hidden 
behind the shelves Charles had already explored. "All of these deal with the 
human languages of English, Spanish and Chinese. I have some of other 
languages, but not enough to give you good samples. If you wish, I can aid 
you in learning how to translate them properly. I would like that. It would 
give an old man a chance to feel worthwhile again, if only for a little while."

   Charles smiled and accepted the old Drakh's offer. They worked for three 
weeks and by the time they were finished, Charles had a rudimentary 
working knowledge of Drakh both written and spoken. He thanked the old 
Drakh and asked if he could come back again. The old Drakh smiled and 
said he would look forward to the experience.

   Charles slowly opened his eyes. He found that he wasn't alone in the room. 
Eddie and several other men and women were looking at him with curiosity 
showing in their expressions.

   "That was fantastic, Charles," said Eddie. "We were able to piggy-back 
another telepath on your efforts and we got a real treasure trove of 
information about the Drakh language."

   It was Charles' turn to be curious and confused. "Just what do you mean, 
piggy-backed?"

   "After you established your connection, we had one of out P-7s who is also 
an artist attempt to make a connection with you. It worked beyond our 
wildest dreams. She could 'see' and 'hear' everything you did, and the Drakh 
was never the wiser. She was able to use a data pad and copy their language 
symbols into our computers. In a short while with what we got this time, we 
should be able to read and write their language."

   "I feel incredibly tired. How long have I been at this?"

   "Fourteen hours. We were loath to cause you to break the connection 
because of the massive quantity of high quality data we were getting. The 
Drakh doesn't seem any worse for wear due to the effort. This 'piggy-back' 
thing may be the real way to get what we want. You supply the connection 
and one or more of our lesser telepaths can 'ride along' and gather specific 
data. That should maximize our efforts," explained Eddie.

   "It's your credit chip. If it works, it's okay with me," replied Charles.

   "I think our people, who have been trying to pry information from the 
Drakh ship's we've captured, are going to fall in love with this data once we 
get it organized," noted Eddie. "Hell, with this language data they'll be not 
only able to read the labels on the equipment controls, they should be able to 
pull the important stuff out of the Drakh computers in record time."

   "Whatever it takes to put us on an equal footing with the bastards," 
commented Mack.

******************************

Lt. Colonel King's 'office':

   Susan walked into Lt. Colonel King's office. She heard someone, whom 
she assumed to be him, talking to someone else. The other voice sounded 
like it was coming from a hands-off phone. She strolled the length of the 
room until she was standing in the entryway to his cubicle. "Lt. Colonel 
King?" 

   King turned his head to see who had spoken to him. He blinked several 
times when he saw the stars on her shoulder boards. "Have you never seen a 
flag officer before?" she inquired. "Do you know how to respond when a 
flag officer comes into the room? I know you know how to shoot your mouth 
off in public, and criticize a flag officer, when you have no idea what you're 
talking about. Is that the extent of your abilities?"

   King just sat there and stared. Running his mouth and acting like a big man 
that morning when he had made his remarks to Wallace Ashley, Frank 
Goldstein and the on-duty security guards hadn't seemed like a bad idea at 
the time. Facing this angry flag officer was something else. Realization 
struck him that this woman could end his career right here and now, and he 
could kiss his retirement goodbye.

   "The least you could do, Lt. Colonel King is come to attention. Is that 
beyond your abilities?"

   Susan had trouble believing what she was seeing. The jerk was 
disrespectful in every aspect that mattered. He just sat behind his desk 
looking like a wild animal caught in the headlights of an oncoming vehicle.

   "Stand at attention, Lt. Colonel King!" snapped Susan. At last the man 
moved. Slowly, he got to his feet and came to a semblance of attention.

   "With all due respect, general. I was talking on the vid-phone," said King.

   Susan stepped to King's desk and turned the display/pick-up unit to face 
her. "My apologies for interrupting your call..."

   "Colonel Pearson, general. Are you by any chance General Wayne, 
General Zaleski's relief?"

   "I'm afraid so, Colonel Pearson."

   "I was looking forward to meeting you, Monday two weeks from now."

   "I'm sorry for upsetting your plans."

   "Not at all, sir. Mr. King and I were only discussing the size of his office.”

   "I know I'm not due to take over for a several weeks, Colonel Pearson, so I 
have a favor to ask of you."

   "Ask, sir. I'll do what ever I can."

   "There are two young lieutenants assigned to this office. I've had a rather 
enlightening talk with both of them over coffee and doughnuts. My favor is 
pretty simple. I'd like to have them returned to headquarters and reassigned 
somewhere that their talents can be used to best advantage. I'm sure that 
sitting on their duffs and doing nothing here isn't very career enhancing. By 
the way, why were they assigned here anyway?"

   "Last part first, sir. They were just arriving when Lt. Colonel King 
requested two assistants. He said it was his right by virtue of his position. 
Since we hadn't assigned them to anyone, they were, excuse the term, 
expendable - as to the favor, not a problem. I'll send them travel orders by 
the end of lunch. They'll be back here tomorrow. Is there anything else I can 
do for you, general?"

   "Not at the moment, but that is subject to change. I'm about to have a 
conversation with Lt. Colonel King. After that, we'll see. Thank you for 
taking care of the junior officers, Colonel Pearson. Do you want to talk any 
further with Lt. Colonel King?"

   "I don't think so, sir. I'm sure you will cover anything of importance. I'm 
looking forward to meeting you in person. "

   "Goodbye, Colonel Pearson," said Susan closing the circuit. "Now, Mr. 
King, you and I have some business to discuss. My first question is where do 
you get off blabbing to the world that I was out of uniform? Pull up the 
uniform regulations manual and show me the pertinent parts. I'll use one of 
the other terminals to pull up your personnel record. Get to it!" she snapped 
stepping out of his cubicle and sitting down at the first lieutenant's desk and 
turning his data terminal on.

   Susan looked at King's record and noted that he had been a member of 
Nightwatch during the Clark regime, according to several of his fitness 
reports. She wondered about that, so she called up several more records of 
other people she knew who had been in Nightwatch. Several of them had 
been dismissed from service, one was in prison, and two others had nothing 
in their records to indicate that they had ever belonged to the organization. 
This piqued her curiosity, so she called JAG headquarters. In less than ten 
minutes, she had her answers. The people with no notations had been 
evaluated as having been members out of fear and had not participated in 
any Nightwatch functions of their own free will. Such was not the case with 
King. They hadn't been able to get several witnesses to testify at his trial, so 
the charges had been withdrawn. The notation was in his first post 
Nightwatch fitness report as a black mark on his performance. It was a legal 
last resort to punish a guilty party who had skirted the system. He would 
never be promoted and would be assigned the most useless positions that 
could be found. That explanation meshed very well with what the junior 
officers had told her. Susan noted the reporting officer's name and rank and 
made another call. She continued to read the fitness reports for the period 
between the time King had received his commission and President Clark 
coming to power. What she read caused her to have even more questions 
about King.

   Susan stepped back into King's cubicle. "Have you retrieved the uniform 
regulations manual yet, Lt. Colonel King?"

   "Yes, sir."

   "Read me the parts that indicate that I'm out of uniform."

   King read the last short paragraph in the manual, which essentially said hat 
anything not specifically authorized by the uniform regulations was 
prohibited from being worn in conjunction with the approved uniform.

   "That's accurate as far as it goes, Lt. Colonel King, but you need to 
examine the latest manual updates. There is a menu that makes them 
available from the main manual page. Check those. I'll wait."

   It only took a minute for King to retrieve the information concerning 
updates to the uniform regulations manual. As he read the latest update, his 
face became pasty white. There it was in the update. The specific things 
about her uniform that he had been so quick to bray about were outlined and 
specifically noted to apply only to her. He looked over at her.

   "I'm waiting, Lt. Colonel King. Read me the part that can be cited as proof 
that I'm out of uniform!"

   "It seems that I've made a mistake, General Wayne."

   "According to your record, you have a penchant for that. It's destroyed 
your career opportunities in the past, and it quite possibly may be what 
makes it impossible for you to continue further service to the Earth 
Alliance."

   "I'm not sure what you mean by that, general."

   "I put in a call to one of your previous commanding officers. What I do 
with you after I relieve General Zaleski may well be determined by what I 
learn from that call."

   "You seem to have already made up your mind about me, general."

   "Considering, Mr. King, that less than two hours ago, I didn't even know 
you existed, it is an interesting observation. Why do you think that might 
be?" Susan held hand up to silence King. "Think about it. The first time I 
ever heard of you was when the front desk security guard told me you had 
left orders for me to report to you when I returned to the building. If you 
thought that would impress me, I have news for you - it didn't, but it told me 
a great deal about you. Between my conversation with your two junior 
officers and your own service record, I have more or less made up my mind 
about you. Believe me, you aren't going to like my conclusions."

   "As I said before, sir, everyone makes mistakes."

   "In your case, I don't believe you. I think you bought into the Nightwatch 
crap completely, and your behavior this morning, especially since I walked 
into this office indicates you still do, unfortunately."

   It was at that moment that the incoming call signal sounded.

   "Better answer that, Mr. King."

   It was the call Susan had been waiting for. King turned the pick-up/display 
around until it faced Susan.

   "Susan Wayne here," Susan said to the female face on the display.

   In a moment, the female face disappeared to be replaced by that of an older 
man. "General Wayne. I'm General Donovan. How may be of service?"

   "I was reviewing the performance reports of a Lt. Colonel Ira King. Your 
performance reports and the comments were interesting to say the least. I 
have him sitting on the other side of his desk, but I'm sure you won't let that 
influence your answers to my questions."

   "Not at all, General Wayne. Fire away."

   "What kind of officer was King before he got involved with Nightwatch?"

   "In a word, undistinguished. He wouldn't have showed up on anyone's 
radar. You could have replaced him with a half-baked lieutenant and not 
been aware of the difference. I don't understand how he ever got promoted 
beyond that point."

   "What can you tell me about his involvement with Nightwatch?"

   "If you mean, how did he become involved that one is easy. There was a 
meeting held by a representative from the Ministry of Peace. King climbed 
aboard right away. After Nightwatch got itself established, and it was 
evident that they had some real clout, he became a real horse's ass. He made 
his reports to his superior, whoever that was, and became a second 
commanding officer for my command. He scrutinized everything my exec 
and I said and did. My exec had a short fuse for the BS that was being 
foisted upon us, and didn't hesitate to express his opinions. One morning 
about three months after King joined the Nightwatch, my exec was arrested 
for treason and jailed. I never heard from him or anything about him again. I 
honestly believe King is at least indirectly responsible for his arrest. The 
problem was we could never prove anything. The records, of any reports he 
might have made and who he made them to, conveniently disappeared. 
That's why charges were withdrawn against him. We never had enough 
resources to investigate properly. Remember, General Wayne, everything 
was in a shambles after Clark fried his brains, and the people being charged 
and tried swamped the justice system. I suppose you could say he fell 
through the cracks. The evaluations were the only way I could strike back."

   "There is some good news, General Donovan. I have some people who 
owe me really big time, and they have the resources to reopen the 
investigation and conduct it properly. If there is anything to hang King for, 
they will find it. I promise you that."

   "I appreciate your efforts, General Wayne."

   "Expect someone to contact you before the week is out, General 
Donovan." Susan broke the connection and looked across the desk at King. 
"You see where I'm going with this?"

   "Even a blind man could see that, general."

   "Give this some thought. If you hadn't screwed up this morning, I wouldn't 
even know who you are. Because of your own behavior, you may very well 
end up in prison, depending on what my friends find during their 
investigation of you. Was it really worth it to try and impress those people 
this morning?"

   "It's a moot point now, general."

   "I'll expect you to muster with me outside this office in your service dress 
uniform at 0655 hours tomorrow morning and every morning until I leave 
this school. I want to make sure you project the proper military appearance 
when people see you in public. Now leave the office and close the door. I 
need to make a few calls and they're private."

   "Yes, sir," replied King and left the room, closing the door behind him.

   A minute after King left, Susan had Garibaldi on the vid-phone. "Hello, 
Michael."

   "What can I do for you, Susan?" inquired the image of Garibaldi that was 
looking out at her from the display.

   Susan took a few minutes to tell him what she wanted. "That's going to 
cost, Susan."

   "You owe me, Michael."

   "Yeah, I know - You and Lyta - Christ I'll never get out of hock to the two 
of you."

   "You're already off her hook, Michael. I was provided proof that she was 
on the base that blew up here recently." Susan then took a few minutes to 
explain exactly what she wanted.

   "I'll take your word for it about Lyta, Susan. You’ll be hearing something 
from my people in a week or so. Then we can discuss what you want to do 
with whatever we find."

   "I love you, Michael."

   "I know. Take care of yourself." after he finished talking, he broke circuit.

   Susan called Leftcourt and explained to him what she was doing and what 
had transpired at the preliminary hearing that morning.

   "As far as you getting yourself an agent, that's not a problem, Susan. You 
just can't appear to be representing Earthforce in anything that may come out 
of this notoriety. If there's anything that's to appear to come from the 
military, it must come from our public affairs office. You're way up the 
totem pole now, Susan. People are very aware of everything you say and 
do."

   "I understand, general. However, I don't think it'll amount to much, sir."

   "I look forward to seeing the results of your curiosity, Susan." He then 
broke the circuit.

   Susan proceeded to go back to class for what was left of the morning.

****************************** 

In Leftcourt's office:

   "You don't want to get on her bad side, do you, sir?" asked Colonel Jake 
Carns, Earthforce senior public relations officer (PAO).

   "It's not a good idea, Jake," replied Leftcourt.

   "What the lawyer told her is the truth. Very shortly, she is going to be 
swamped by the media boys. The advertising agencies are going to be 
fighting over her. The talk shows will do pretty much the same. Look at her. 
She's a bonafide hero, and she is a knockout. You watch the commercials 
and such, general. What do you think will happen to the brand of lipstick that 
she uses when that information is splashed up on a video screen. I'll tell you 
what. The sales will go through the roof."

   Leftcourt listened to his PAO and considered what he had just said 
thoughtfully. "If you're correct, she'll have to be careful not to let her military 
background play into it. It would be a major conflict of interest for her to 
make money off of that."

   "Bull, general. We want her to be identified with the military. Do you 
know how much we spend a year on advertising in our recruiting 
promotions? If we let her make commercials and other things, we can make 
a killing in free publicity. We now spend close to fifty million credits a year 
on all our recruiting efforts. She gets identified as an Earthforce officer, a 
hero, and a knockout in the commercials they will want her to do, and we get 
free advertising. She could be worth several hundred million credits in 
recruiting promotions over the next year or so, or at least until the public gets 
tired of her, and they might not get tired of her. General, we hire actors to 
make commercials for us. She's the real thing, and she has on camera 
experience. After all, she was the ‘Voice of the Resistance’. With your 
permission, I'd like to contact some friends of mine. We can make this a win 
big situation for all concerned, if we handle it properly."

   Leftcourt sat digesting what he was hearing. He sat silently deep in thought 
for almost five minutes. "Do it, Jake."

   With those three words, the wheels of Susan Ivanova's new future were set 
in motion, whether she approved of it or not. She was destined to become a 
victim of her own hard work, fearlessness, and dedication to duty.

****************************** 

   Susan's class was getting ready to break for lunch when the instructor told 
her that Mr. Ashley wanted to see her in his office. Susan and Mary walked 
down the hallways discussing possibilities about what Ashley might want 
with her. When they reached Ashley's office, Susan got a surprise.

   "Is this a joke, Mr. Ashley?" asked Susan.

   "It's not a joke, Susan. It's what she wanted," he responded. The she was 
his wife.

   "What can I do for you, Mrs. Ashley. I thought we said all that needed to 
be said Saturday evening," said Susan with a coolness that bordered on 
iciness.

   Mary felt very uncomfortable. It was obvious to her that these women had 
no use for one another. However, Mrs. Ashley soon changed that perception. 

   "Wally never formally introduced us. My name is Helen. How should I 
address you?"

   Susan was getting confusing body language signals from both Ashley and 
his wife. "My rank and last name will do just fine," she replied with the same 
icy tone in which she had spoken the first time. 

   "You aren't making this easy, General Wayne," she replied hesitatingly. 
"Eating crow is hard enough as it is."

   Susan started lowering her mental barriers. She needed to know what in 
hell the woman was trying to say. None of it made any real sense. Looking at 
Wally, Susan asked, "I suppose there is a point to all this?"

   "I told her that you never forgive or forget, and that you don't accept 
apologies," replied Ashley.

   "Apparently she doesn't believe you. If that is what you're trying to do, 
Mrs. Ashley, forget it. It's a waste of my time. You made it very plain what 
you thought of me Saturday night. Let's just leave it at that," Susan said as 
icily as she possibly could. "Come on, Mary. Let's get some lunch while we 
still have time." As she finished talking, she executed an about face and 
started toward the office door.

   "Susan. It won't hurt to hear her out," said Mary softly. "I've been with you 
for several weeks now. If for no other reason, will you listen to her for me?" 
Mary had been watching Ashley's wife closely. She could see the pain in the 
woman's eyes, even if Susan didn't. The hurt expression she had exhibited on 
her face when Susan had brushed off her attempt to apologize spoke 
volumes.  

   Susan turned to face Mrs. Ashley. Helen said, "Saturday night, Wally 
showed us some videos. They explained his feelings toward you. I was 
grossly mistaken about you and him. I'd like the chance to start over with 
you."

   Susan studied Mrs. Ashley closely as she listened to the thoughts that the 
woman was broadcasting. She was being honest in her apology. "I accept 
your apology, Mrs. Ashley," she said earnestly.

   "Susan, I'd like to invite you and your whole class over to my home 
Saturday afternoon for a cookout. I'm going to invite a few other friends too. 
Will you attend?" asked Wally.

   "I'd like that, Wally. Just let me know what time you want us to be there. I 
hate to run, but Mary and I still have to grab lunch in the cafeteria."

   After Susan and Mary had left his office, Ashley's wife asked, "I thought 
you said she never forgives or forgets and didn't accept apologies?"

   "She didn't use to be a telepath either."

   "What does that have to do with it?"

   "You really and truly regret how you treated her Saturday night and the 
chain of events that followed. You must have strong thoughts and feelings of 
regret about that."

   "I do. If I could do anything to change things, I would."

   "She knows that. It's why she accepted your apology. I watched her study 
you as you apologized. She could read you thoughts and feelings just like 
she did Saturday night."

   "At least she knows my regrets are truly sincere."

******************************

In the cafeteria:

   Susan and Mary had finished sandwiches and soup and were taking their 
time over coffee. "If you don't accept apologies, why did you accept hers?" 
asked Mary.

   "She was honest and sincere." 

   "How can you be sure? Did you scan her?"

   "Not at all. Her feelings and thoughts about it were very strong. All I did 
was lower my mental shields."

   "Did you hear my thoughts?"
 
   "Yes. I heard Wally's, too. Mary, telepathy doesn't work the way most 
people think it does."

   "Can you give me something that might make it easier to understand?"

   "Imagine that you're in a room full of people, all of whom are talking in 
whispers. It can be annoying because you can't really understand what you're 
hearing. If you concentrate on one person you may be able to understand 
what they're saying. That's how it is if your mental shields are in place, 
unless you have really strong ones. If your shields are down, it sounds like 
everyone is shouting at the same time. In a room with only two or three 
people you can easily separate out their individual thoughts. Actively 
scanning someone against their will is something else altogether. I'd describe 
it as mental rape."

   Mary sipped her coffee and studied Susan intently. "What's on your mind, 
Mary?"

   "It's occurred to me that you use your cold dispassionate exterior to keep 
people at bay."

   "I didn't know you were a 'shrink'."

   "I've been around the block a few times in my life, Susan. Sometimes 
experience is a much better teacher than any instructor in a classroom."

   Susan consulted her watch. "It's time to get back to class."

******************************

Monday afternoon in Earthforce Headquarters PAO office:

   "Good morning, Brad. Jake Carns here. I think I may have something of 
interest for you. How would you like to become the agent for the hottest 
thing in commercials since color in video."

   "What kind of snake oil are you selling this morning, Jake?" asked Brad 
Gordon, well-known ‘agent to the stars'.

   "Do you remember the ‘Voice of the Resistance’ broadcasts during the 
civil war?"

   "Sure do. The chick that was reading the news was a knockout. Why?"

   "How would you like to be her agent?"

   "If I remember correctly, she was a commander in Earthforce. Unless they 
kicked her out, I doubt that she'd be available. I'm guessing that has 
changed."

   "In a manner of speaking it has. Have you been watching the news the last 
few days?"
  
   "Not really. Why? Did I miss something?"

   "In a manner of speaking. She has been the news, and I think she is about 
to become very sought after. I thought you might be able to handle her in a 
manner that General Leftcourt would approve of."

   "What are you asking?"

   "That commander is now a brigadier general, and in a few weeks she will 
be promoted to major general when she takes over her next assignment. I 
convinced Leftcourt that she will be a ‘media babe’ before the month is out. 
I also convinced him that she could be used to garner a fortune in free 
publicity for Earthforce's recruiting efforts if we let her use the celebrity that 
is about to crash down upon her."

   "Is she aware of yours and the general's plans?"

   "Not yet. I'd like to set up a meet between her, you and some of the people 
you do business with. The only problem is that she won't be aware of it. She 
won't know what's planned until you finally introduce yourself and your 
friends. I promise she won't make a scene."

   "This is the woman who was the second in command of the resistance 
forces during the civil war, and you think you can control her? Jake you are 
full of it, but I'll do it. Just tell me when and where. Also, this is on your 
credit chip."

   "You won't regret this, Brad. I promise."

******************************

In Susan's apartment that evening:

   Susan called the number on the business card the judge had given her. A 
man's face appeared on her video display. "Who's calling?"

   "Susan Ivanova-Wayne for Judge Engles," responded Susan.

   "One moment." Almost a minute later, the face of the judge appeared on 
the display.

   "You asked me to call, Ms. Engles."

   "Actually, it's Mrs., and I prefer Barbara when I'm not in the courtroom."

   "Mrs. Engles, I don't know you, and my military background predisposes 
me to use titles and last names of people, unless they are my friends. 
Although I've made an exception for my classmates at the Ashley Co. Now, 
what can I do for you?"

   "Unlike most people. I read the newspapers and watch the news shows. I 
knew whom you were the moment I saw you in my courtroom. I want to 
have dinner with you and talk that's all. You are a very interesting person, 
general. I have no intention of discussing the upcoming trial. That would be 
a breach of ethics, anyway."

   "I and my classmates have been invited to a cookout at Wallace Ashley's 
estate this coming Saturday. If you wish, you and your spouse or significant 
other are invited to attend. I'm sure Wally and his wife, Helen, won't mind 
meeting some of the local judiciary. Wally hasn't given me the exact time, 
but I'd be happy to have you as my guest."

   "Will there be any children there?"

   "I honestly don't know. I’ll ask Wally, and let you know. He has a pair of 
teenagers, but they may or may not be there."

   "I think I'd enjoy a cookout. Let me know, so I can get a babysitter in 
time."

    Susan watched the judge's image fade from the display. Then she returned 
to going over the material she had missed while she was out of class earlier 
in the day.

******************************

   Wednesday at lunch, Wallace Ashley approached Susan's and Mary's table. 
"May I sit and talk, over a cup of coffee?"

   "Of course, Mr. Ashley," replied Mary. "What can we do for you?"

   "I just want to let you know that the cookout games and entertainment will 
start at 1400 hours, Saturday. I expect to have a sit-down mid-afternoon meal 
about 1700 or so. Dress is summer informal. There is also an Olympic size 
swimming pool."

   "I haven't been swimming since before I graduated from college, Wally," 
replied Susan. "However, I was on the school swim team, so I'm not likely to 
drown...in the shallow end."

   "We'll pass the word on to our classmates, Mr. Ashley," said Mary.

   "My son is looking forward to meeting you again, Susan. I think he has a 
crush on you," Wally said, smiling.

   "I'm old enough to be his mother," replied Susan.

   "Correction, Susan. You are older than his mother," Wally replied smugly.

******************************

   Thursday morning Wallace Ashley got a call from Jake Carns. Carns 
explained that he and some friends wanted to meet with Susan. He also 
explained about General Leftcourt's interest. He further inquired about her 
class schedule to try and find time for the event. Ashley asked what was 
required, and after Carns explained what was needed, Ashley told him about 
the cookout and pool party. Carns seemed to think that would be perfect and 
asked when it was to start. Carns asked that Ashley not tell Susan about him 
and his friends.
  
******************************

Saturday:

   The remainder of the week had passed quickly for Susan. Between class 
and her workouts with Grand Master Macel, she had been kept busy. 
Saturday morning had come, and she had just finished her morning workout 
and post workout shower. Macel had explained that he would be leaving that 
afternoon to return to Minbar. He was looking forward to getting what he 
had learned from her integrated into ranger training, and it couldn't be done 
overnight. He promised that he would give her the opportunity to train with 
him again in the future.

   She was opening the street entrance to her apartment complex when she 
felt a familiar sensation in her mind. Charles was home. He hadn't called to 
say he was coming, so she figured that he wanted to surprise her. She played 
along with the game and entered the apartment as she normally did. There 
were two tall steaming cups of coffee on the dining table, and one of them 
was mocha.

   "I know you're here, Charley!"

   Walking out of the bedroom in his shorts, he said, "I had to try, but I didn't 
think it would work."

   She walked to him and embraced him slowly, as if he might break like a 
soap bubble and disappear. The kiss was long and deep. It was only a start.

   "Honey, let's drink the coffee first or it'll go to waste."

   Susan released him and walked to the table and took a deep drink of the 
mocha. "It's just the right temperature." Two more really deep drinks and the 
large cup was empty. Charley quickly drank his and then turned his 
attentions to his beautiful wife. Much later, she told him about the cookout 
scheduled for that afternoon.

******************************

END PART 20

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