Chapter Text
BABYLON 5: THE VIRTUAL SIXTH SEASON
"THE PRICE OF FREEDOM"
Episode 12
THERE'S NO PLACE LIKE HOME
by Anne E. Clements
Originally released 01/01
AO3 version published with permission as RoxyStreeter.
Acknowledgements above and beyond the call of duty: Fiona Avery for Narn physiology and sexual habits, Gareth Williams and Peter David for the Centauri, Kim Stanley Robinson for Mars.
Also note that I am pulling in elements from Peter David's Centauri novel series - this may not be exactly that Universe, but it is right next door.
************** FEATURING *****************
MARY KAY ADAMS as Ta'Marr
MARC ALAIMO as G'Kael
WAYNE ALEXANDER as Shiv'kala
CLANCY BROWN as Harrison Daker
JULIE CAITLIN BROWN as Na'Toth
JANE CARR as Timov
DENISE GENTILE as Lise Edgars-Garibaldi
DEREK JACOBI as Lord-General Marrago
JUANITA JENNINGS As Lieutenant Carr
MATT LEBLANC as Alto
DAVID MARCIANO as Armani
KENNETH MARSHALL as Durla
RITA MORENO as Drusilla Marrago
MARTIN SACKS as Aragon Pernimi
DAVID SCHWIMMER as Volga Jaddo
CARMEN THOMAS as Lyndisty Marrago
PETER TRENCHER as Captain Carn Mollari
JAMES MICHAEL TYLER as Prado
* * * And Introducing * * *
CHRIS JURASEK as Kristo Mollari
DREW DENARDO as Denardo Mollari
* * * Special Guest Stars * * *
MAJEL BARRETT as Lady Morella
JERRY DOYLE as Michael Garibaldi
PETER JURASIK as Londo Mollari
BABYLON 5
06/11/2263
Lieutenant Corwin spotted Captain Lochley as she strolled into the Zocalo.
"Captain!" he called. "There you are. I've been looking for you."
Lochley smiled and kept walking, heading for a lavish floral display.
"Just taking a moment to stop and smell the roses, Lieutenant," she said over her shoulder.
"Ma'am?"
She gathered up an exotic white bloom. "Do you realize, it's been almost three days since we've had any kind of a crisis around here? And the last one wasn't even a big one."
"Yes, it's been pretty quiet," Corwin agreed automatically, anxious to deliver his message and get back to C&C. He didn't get a chance, though, since she immediately launched into a circuitous monologue involving Sheridan, Garibaldi, and something called the 'Pauli effect'. This gave him plenty of time to wonder whether a selective memory was some sort of critical component of the command mindset. Granted, the problem with lurkers resisting relocation while repairs were made to various levels of Brown Sector had been resolved quite handily, with the help of Ms. Marrago and that Narn kid, still it had been little more than a week since the whole station had come within a gnat's whisker of being blown up. And before that...well, the less said, the better. For the Captain to be so complacent about one week of relative quiet argued a degree of psychological discipline that the Lieutenant could only strive to emulate.
Too bad he was going to have to burst her bubble...
"Over the last few months," Lochley went on smoothly, "this place has become...almost manageable."
For a moment Corwin wondered if she were joking -- but then he saw his chance.
"I'm sorry, Lieutenant," she said, coming back from whatever mental realm Captains went to when they were pontificating (another Command Concept he had yet to nail down, although he was working on it). "Obviously, you tracked me down for a reason. What is it?"
As he told her, he could have sworn he heard something go 'pop'.
At the inner end of the Customs chamber a set of transport tube doors closed on the elegantly attired and complacently smiling figure of Michael Garibaldi, once Chief of Security of Babylon 5, now Chief of Operations of one of the Earth Alliance's most powerful mega-corporations. A few moments later they reopened to reveal an oddly assorted pair of upper-class Centauri gentlemen engrossed in urgent conversation.
"Now whatever you do," said the shorter, older man, "don't sneeze in the presence of the H'ggorth Chief Facilitator. It's considered a serious insult to their gods - if you even think you might be catching a cold, reschedule. Say that the omens are inauspicious - they always believe that one. I've used it a hundred times...well, it feels like that many, anyway."
"Sneezing...gods...omens...got it, Ambassador," the gangly attaché was zealously entering notes, his crest bobbing slightly as he nodded over his datapad. In the few months since his arrival, Volga Jaddo had devoted all his considerable energy to learning his duties, ever-mindful (and ever-reminded by the Lady Brettaria, his formidable Aunt) of his position as breadwinner for the remnants of their extended family. Now he looked down at his superior, a wary look on his long, perpetually mournful face.
"Um, Ambassador - there was one thing I wanted to ask you about..."
"Um, yes?" Vir Cotto answered absently, scanning the room for a particular face.
"Um, well, as you may know, um..." the younger man began (and yes, certain elements among the station's Human personnel did refer to the two of them as the 'Centauri Um...bassadorial Staff'), "my family has settled into their new quarters quite nicely, after that, um, awkwardness when we first arrived...and my cousin Narandro has recently started giving lessons in swordsmanship. He managed to rent some space in Brown 11 - not the best neighborhood, I know, but..."
"Wait a minute," Vir interrupted, focusing on his attaché once more. "Your cousin is Narandro Dok? The Champion of the Camulodo Cora Predo? I won fifty ducats on a match of his, once! Of course it was Londo's idea, and he did take half...but still...I'm sorry, you were saying?"
"Well, yes, Narandro was living in Camulodo, but his wives and children were killed in the bombing there. Then, when the Cora Predo was disbanded, he came to us, and, um..."
"Disbanded? What are you talking about?"
"You didn't hear? It was one of the first decrees the Emperor made after he took the throne. It was said that duelling societies are not suitable for an advanced culture - that they encourage lawlessness and reckless behavior. It is now illegal to carry a kutari or other blade in public, or to teach the art of the sword anywhere on the homeworld. On the colonies, and here, within the restrictions imposed by the station's own policies, of course, there is more leeway...at least so far...but..."
"I don't believe it!" Vir protested. "Londo loved the Cora Predo - he would never..."
"The Emperor made the proclamation himself," Volga assured him. "I was there, I heard it. But what I wanted to ask you is, can we - I mean, can they - borrow the Jaddo kutari, the one my Uncle Urza gave to the Emperor? I know he left it here, I've seen it in your quarters. Actually, I, um, polished it yesterday," he added with a sheepish smile. "We would treat it with great honor - Narandro wants to hang it in the Salle itself, right over the shrine to Morg the Death-Handed. He is certain it would help bring in students who revere the old ways..."
"I don't know," the Ambassador said dubiously. "If His Majesty really...but I can't believe that he would...but if he has, then...I mean, it's not really for me to say..."
"What is not for you to say, my husband?" Lyndisty's lilting voice chimed in. Her brilliant smile drove all thought clean out of the Ambassador's head, as usual. The attaché, a respectably (and presumably happily) married young man, was only slightly less at a loss for words.
"The um, the Ambassador was just giving me some, uh, last-minute instructions, dem'selle Marrago," said Volga, bobbing his head deferentially toward the diminutive Centauri woman. She favored him with a flash of that smile, and he blushed. Vir recovered himself enough to dismiss the young man, and the two of them walked slowly toward the gate.
"I'm sorry I'm so late, Vir," Lyndisty said. "There was a slight emergency at the Center, but Mrs. Sheridan was good enough to cover for me for a while. I was afraid you would be gone by the time I could get here..."
"Oh, not to worry," Vir replied. "I've got a good...um..." he looked up at the time display - "three minutes left before the Justarius undocks. I am glad you came, though. I didn't want to go without seeing you..."
"Why, Vir, you are only going home for a few days! Although," she added wistfully, "I do wish I were going with you - I would like to see Father again...and Mother, of course. It's just that there is so much to do here..."
"Maybe next time," Vir suggested. "I'm planning on visiting your parents while I'm there, anyway - I'll be sure to tell them how much you miss them."
"Yes, and make sure Father is dressing warmly enough - the old house is so drafty, and he still thinks of himself as the stalwart soldier who can ignore any hardship. And..." her smile faltered, "tell Mother I am well, and that I will record a message for her...soon."
"I suppose she'll be anxious to hear when we plan to complete our marriage," he suggested, and their eyes met in a look of shared wariness and longing. "I'll handle it," he assured her, pulling himself together. "I am, after all, a professional diplomat!"
"So you are, my Ambassador!" she agreed, taking his arm again with a relieved smile. "So, are you going to present your proposal to the Emperor?"
"Well, that is the main reason I'm going home, after all - to report on my progress in dealing with the Interstellar Alliance here on Babylon 5. And if negotiating - or, I should say, renegotiating - an extensive trade treaty with almost two-thirds of the Alliance worlds, including the Narns, doesn't count as progress, then I don't know what does!" He couldn't help sounding a bit smug, and Lyndisty's eyes glowed as she looked up at him.
"I'm sure that the Emperor will be very proud of you, Vir! You must be careful, though," she said, sobering, "for there may be those at Court that will envy you - you know how they are, there! And if anyone were to link you to the escape of Lady Morella and Carn Mollari..." she added, referring to the recent, thoroughly unauthorized rescue of the station by the current Emperor's nephew and the widow of the former Emperor. A Centauri warship had been diverted to arrest them, but the renegades had already left the station. Some said they had fled to Earth, some suggested less likely places. Vir himself did not know where they had gone - Captain Lochley had said she'd take care of it, and he had been more than willing to leave the matter in her capable hands.
"Oh, yes," he assured Lyndisty, "I will certainly be careful! Fortunately, when I was at court before this, it was in far too lowly a position to make enemies...that is," his eyes tightened at a particularly painful memory, "surviving enemies...but never mind," he perked up and patted his fiancée's hand, "I'm sure everything will be fine, and I'll be back here with you before you know it! Ah - they're calling for my shuttle, I have to go now."
Quickly, a little shyly, they embraced, and the Ambassador started through the gate. Struck by some unnameable impulse, Lyndisty called after him again.
"Vir!"
He turned back.
"Be careful!"
He smiled, and waved, and was swallowed up by the crowd. Lyndisty looked after him for a long moment, then sighed and turned away.
"Be careful," she murmured a third time. She shook her head. "Why do I keep SAYING that to people?" she asked, whether of her Vindrizi symbiont or of the Universe in general, she wasn't sure. A few steps later, she stopped short.
"And why do I have this feeling that they never listen?"
As she left the embarcation area through one doorway, two Narns entered from the opposite direction. One was stocky and in the prime of his Narnhood, while the other was younger, slimmer, and incongruously clad in an Earth-style jumpsuit.
"Are you sure you won't come with me, G'Stral?" the elder Narn was saying. "I'm sure it would prove most...educational."
The other shook his head vehemently. "I will never go back. There is nothing for me on Homeworld. My family, my whole village was obliterated by the Centauri."
"There are other villages," the Narn Ambassador pointed out. "From what I hear, the rebuilding is progressing remarkably well, with help from the Alliance."
G'Stral snorted. "And at what price?" he asked cynically. "When the Alliance is done rebuilding Narn in its own image, will it truly be Narn at all?"
"All worlds change, G'Stral - even this place has changed, in the short time I have been here. I think you are simply afraid. Yes," he nodded as the young Narn scowled angrily. "Afraid to let go of your anger and need for revenge. You gather it all up into one lump and call it 'home', and cling to it like a yard-lizard clinging to her egg. But I have travelled much farther than you, my young friend, and let go of many things, and despite all the changes, I look forward to walking the sands of Narn once again. Perhaps I will even get a chance to visit the sea - my ancestors were sailors, you know, before we learned to sail between the stars."
G'stral laughed shortly. "If you can call those tepid puddles the Centauri left us 'seas'," he said scathingly. "I remember when they announced that the last fish were extinct - I was barely out of the pouch, but I knew we had lost something precious and irreplaceable..."
"Not necessarily," said Ambassador Ta'Lon. "There is a team of geneticists at the University of Mesoamerica on Earth that is making remarkable progress in recreating extinct species from preserved genetic materials. Just last week I sat in on some promising negotiations with them..."
At that moment the announcement for the Narn shuttle sounded, cutting off Ta'Lon's account as well as whatever retort G'Stral had been about to make.
"Ah - I must go. Keep well, G'Stral, and...try to stay out of trouble until I get back!"
As the Narn Ambassador passed through the gate and his young protegé faded back towards Down Below, two tall, golden-haired Humans approached the next gate over. The display screen for this one showed an imminent departure for Mars.
"So, are you going to visit Earth, too?" asked the black-clad Psi Cop, to be met by a blank stare from his companion.
"No, why should I?" she asked in return.
Colin Ferris shrugged. He didn't quite dare bring up the topic of Dr. Franklin, but he couldn't help being curious. "I don't know, I just figured since you were going to be in the neighborhood..."
Tessa Halloran shook her head, smiling slightly. "That's one thing that always amuses me about you Earthers - that deepseated belief that your little planet is the center of the Universe. Believe me, if I do end up with any time on my hands - which is highly unlikely - Earth is the last place I'd go to play tourist. Besides," she added dismissively, "I caught most of the high points in college, anyway."
"High points? Like what? Mount Everest, perhaps?" the telepath prodded. Sometimes he just couldn't resist teasing Halloran - as much for the pleasure at being trusted enough by a mundane to get away with it as for the chance to crack that ultracompetent demeanor of hers. Although she might not have Jamie Pratchett's almost intimidating puckishness, he found her more subtle responses delightful.
"Yes, as a matter of fact," she replied, deadpan. "A group of us Marsie transfer students set up an expedition. Oldstyle - no elevators, no chair lifts, just our standard outdoor gear from home. The gravity was a bitch, but aside from that it was wonderful. The colors, that incredible horizon..." she broke off at the sight of Colin's vindicated grin. "Of course, it's nothing compared to Olympus," she said quickly. "And the rest of it - Earthdome, the Louvre, the Taj Mahal...it all just seemed so...so self-important. So caught up in the idea of its own greatness that whatever had made it great in the first place was lost."
"Then you obviously picked the wrong 'high points'," Colin assured her. "Someday I'll take you on a tour - we'll do the Caribbean islands, the coast of Norway, stop off at the Edmonton Arcology for a change of pace..."
"Well, while you're planning my next trip, I need to get started on this one." A trace of concern crept into her eyes. "Are you going to be all right, Colin? Are those...alien memories still bothering you?"
Typical Tessa, he thought. She herself had been seriously injured during the reactor crisis - he had never gotten the details, but the emotional leakage he couldn't help picking up from Dr. Hobbs indicated that her recovery was somewhat of a medical miracle. Yet, not only did she go jaunting off to Mars before she should really be out of Medlab, but she was worried about his lingering...difficulties.
"Not as much," he replied, smiling. "It's amazing what a little distraction will do." She finally cracked a smile herself at his dismissal of the near-destruction of the five-mile-long space station as 'a little distraction'. "And, frankly," he went on, "I intend to spend the next week or so holed up in my quarters, getting those memories thoroughly sorted out and integrated. So don't be surprised if, the next time you see me, I'm speaking entirely in Vorlon aphorisms!"
Tessa laughed aloud, giving the round to Colin without rancor. "You'll drive Zack crazy! And speaking of Zack..." she looked around, but there was no sign of the Security Chief. "Oh, well, everything he should need is in his infile anyway."
She glanced at the display as the announcement for her shuttle began. "Take care, Colin!" she called, hitching her carryall higher on her shoulder and moving off through the gate, "Don't let the station go to Hell without me!"
Just as she disappeared, Zack Allan hurried up to the gate.
"Damn it," he said. "I was hoping to catch her before she left..."
"You could have her called back, if it's that important," Colin suggested. Zack looked up at him, distracted, then his gaze sharpened and he shook his head.
"No," he said curtly. "It'll wait. Besides," he said, his expression lightening as a trace of smugness crept into his voice, "I gotta see a man about a bet."
With that, he turned on his heel and walked off, to leave the Psi Cop looking after him in no more confusion than usual.