SquidgeWorld Archive

Captain Ivanova
by nancy

Part 1 - The Smuggler

Steven told me to write down my feelings. That it would help to express myself in some form. Emptiness and pain and rage. Those are my feelings. I've written them down and, as I suspected, I don't feel any better. I know that's not what he means but I feel so ridiculous doing this even though no one will ever see it. I mean, I'm writing in a paper book with a pen for God's sake! I would never have spent so many credits on something so archaic but he and John were conniving against me and bought them both.

My friends. I shake my head and smile at their little conspiracy. John told me to take as much time off from Earth Force as I need. That my position and rank will be waiting for me when I'm ready to come back. Not if, but when in his eyes. He might not be part of Earth Force any more but he's got enough pull to make sure it happens. I suppose that should be reassuring to me but I don't want anything to do with...any part of what killed Marcus. I can't see my feelings changing on that score either.

Then there's Steven, ever the doctor. He checks in on me as often as he can to make sure I'm eating and sleeping. I try to get it together enough for his vidcalls to at least look human. If I don't, I know he'll somehow get me into a psych-watch. He probably doesn't even realize that there's a pattern to his "impromptu" check-up calls. I make sure that I'm here for his calls so he doesn't get worried.

Garibaldi has a better way to keep me from diving off the edge of pain. We box. I get to beat the stuffing out of him at least once a month and he makes sure from his friends that I'm at the gym beating the stuffing out of someone else at least twice a week. It's a lot more satisfying than this, than writing things down.

They're all good friends, my best friends, but I wish they'd leave me the hell alone.

Susan looked up from the journal and sighed, rubbing her hand at the unusual muscle usage. Using a pen was unfamiliar to her, as it was with most people these days; humans anyhow. Susan knew that Delenn and G'Kar used pen and paper in their religious scrolls but it wasn't a human custom anymore. Looking around the empty apartment, she groaned and rolled out of bed. The good thing with being on earth was not having a time limit on her hot showers.

Lately she'd taken a lot of hot showers. Susan was a little surprised that her skin wasn't permanently wrinkled. Walking across the room, she headed for the kitchen, studiously ignoring the bathroom on her way. As a crutch, hot showers were definitely preferable to drugs or alcohol. The main problem was that she was starting to feel like an over-starched shirt and wondering if it was falling under obsessive-compulsive behavior.

Although that would give her an out for not returning to Earth Force. ‘You do have to be psychologically sound to be in service,' she mused thoughtfully.

Pouring some juice, she sat at the kitchen table and stared morosely at the pale golden liquid. Steven had teased her once about being a masochist to have a preference for unsweetened grapefruit juice. Maybe she just had too much time to think.

"Maybe?" she muttered in disgust.

Setting the unfinished juice on the table, she strode to the bedroom and got dressed. It was cold outside but she was looking forward to the bracing air of St. Petersburg. It was so different from the stale, recycled air on Babylon5. There, she couldn't get away from the smells of the other people on board, no matter how good the recycling units and filters were. Here, all Susan had to do was step outside and the scent of pine and freshness, even in the city, surrounded her. It was pristine in comparison to Babylon5.

Walking down the main street, relishing the sharp bite to the wind, Susan headed towards her favorite place to spend time. Zlentka's Bookstore, a coffee shop that held another crutch of hers: old-style espresso with real caffeine. It was several blocks away but walking swiftly through the morning crush of commuters brought her to the crowded doorstep in little time. Inhaling the multitude of scents ranging from the heaviest of espressos to the smokiest of caravan teas, Susan smiled and began to relax.

"Suzenchka!"

Grinning honestly now, Susan turned towards the hearty bellow and was enveloped in strong arms. "Jacob! I see you survived another night!"

Sharp green eyes smiled down at her from a towering height of almost seven feet. Surrounding the green eyes were wrinkles, a prominent nose and mouth, and stark white hair. Jacob Zlentka: owner, proprietor and chess player extrordinaire. "No thanks to your cold hearted rejection of last night, Suzenchka!"

"Old lech," Susan insulted fondly.

A large palm grasped lightly at her shoulder and he asked gently, "Have you come to finish our game?"

"I would like nothing better," Susan agreed firmly. "Except for..."

"One espresso coming up," Jacob anticipated. "Go, sit, I shall join you shortly."

Susan walked through the line of people waiting for their morning shot of caffeine with muttered apologies. She headed to the alcove on the other side where a chessboard was sitting in mid-play. She nodded to the students occupying other worn chairs and sofas in the alcove if the looked up but otherwise settled herself immediately in front of the chessboard. It was her turn and she'd need as much concentration as possible to get herself out of the mess she was in.

"Staring at the board will not bring about victory, Suzenchka," Jacob informed her smugly, setting a small cup beside her. He unrolled his large frame into the opposite chair, crossing incredibly long legs and watching her like a hawk.

"Do you mind? I'm concentrating here," Susan complained.

Raising his hands in the classic surrender pose, Jacob replied, "I apologize. Please, think as long and as hard as you like."

"Smartass," she muttered, leaning forward and eyeing the board intently.

Chess was all or nothing. If Susan felt that she didn't have the concentration necessary to win, or at least do her damnedest, then she wouldn't play. That was the reason that after being in St. Petersburg for a month, she and Jacob were only on their third game. The chessboard was sacrosanct in this place; no one would touch it. Although, even if someone accidentally knocked the board over, all the pieces and their locations were carefully noted in both Jacob's and Susan's data-interface.

She'd been thinking about her next move off and on for the last three days. Last night Susan had fully intended to play. She and Jacob had been sitting here when a man had walked by, faintly catching her attention. At first Susan hadn't really noticed him but then he'd spoken and it was as though Marcus's warm tones were filling the room; his absurd British accent covering laughter. It had been like a blow to her gut.

She must have looked like she was going to pass out because Jacob had reached across the table to hold her steady. Meeting his eyes bleakly, Susan had apologized and left without explanation.

Reaching out, Susan put her hand on the Knight, pursing her lip thoughtfully.

"Are you sure you want to do that, Suzenchka?" Jacob asked mildly.

Glaring at him, Susan replied, "My hand is on the piece, isn't it?"

Shrugging, Jacob merely smiled.

Great. Now she was going to second-guess herself. This was the tie-breaking game and she was determined to win. Irritated, she followed through and smoothly slid the piece forward and left. She knew it was a good move. The fact that green eyes were practically beaming at her from across the table was merely a ploy to rattle her. The fact that said green eyes had over eighty years of experience at this game meant the ploy was succeeding.

Of course, she'd faced down death on more than one occasion of her own so it wasn't as though she didn't have her own bluffing face down pat. Forcing a faint smile to her lips, Susan sat back in her chair, bringing the espresso with her. Crossing her legs nonchalantly, she raised the cup to her mouth and took a sip, smiling mischievously at Jacob with her eyes.

Green eyes narrowed, staring at her suspiciously before turning their attention to the board. Susan considered it a job well done. Grinning outright, she said, "Staring at the board will not bring about victory, Jacob."

He sniffed disdainfully and proceeded to contemplate the board. It was a good morning as they traded turns back and forth, slowly capturing pieces on both sides. Towards noon, Jacob asked, "How long will you be staying here Suzenchka?"

Susan shrugged. "I haven't decided yet. I have use of the apartment for six months if I wish it."

He looked up from the board, eyeing her thoughtfully. "I think, perhaps, that you have too much time on your hands, yes? Otherwise you would not be here, trying to beat me at chess."

"Is there something you'd like to ask me, Jacob? You've never beat around the bush before now," Susan pointed out.

"Da. This is true. I have a favor I wish for you to consider," Jacob said.

"So ask."

"My grandniece is living on Mars. She has just had a baby and we all wish for her to return here permanently. We do not want for her to travel alone, however," Jacob explained.

Frowning, Susan asked, "You want me to be a traveling companion for her and the baby? Jacob, it's perfectly safe to travel from Mars to Earth now. She won't have any trouble."

Hesitantly, Jacob said, "My grandniece, Ellen, she reminds me a lot of your mother, and of you. Her child even more so."

That sent a bolt through Susan and she sat up straight, staring at Jacob. "And you want them to come here? Are you insane?"

Jacob's hands spread helplessly. "Here, I can protect them. On Mars, it's not so certain."

Lowering her voice, Susan continued, "Jacob, there are check points on both planets, manned by telepaths. We would never get through them with a baby who doesn't know how to shield his thoughts."

"Please, Suzenchka. You're the only one I trust who has the means to get them here," Jacob asked simply.

The means. That was true. Pursing her lips thoughtfully, Susan leaned back in her chair. She'd always suspected that Jacob was more than the simple storeowner he appeared to be. It had been a long time since she'd seen him, not since before she joined Earth Force, but even back then, the old man had seemed too smooth, too sure of himself and his business to be just a simple shopkeeper.

Now, having dealt fairly intimately with smugglers and black-marketers in the last few years, Susan knew her instincts had been correct. For Jacob to admit that he couldn't get his grandniece and great-grandchild back to Earth meant that PsiCorp had tightened their security a lot. PsiCorp was something she lived to disrupt and obstruct as much as possible. In the grand scheme of things, two telepaths weren't going to make much of a difference. In the smaller scheme of things, bringing in a mother and child safely from the grasp of the PsiCorp would give Susan great personal pleasure.

Meeting Jacob's eyes, Susan nodded once. "I'll do it. I need some time to figure out the logistics, though."

Smiling gratefully, Jacob replied, "Thank you, Suzenchka. This means the world to us."

"It will be my pleasure, Jacob."

* * * *

Susan punched in the connection code and waited. After a few moment of a blank vidphone, Steven's sleepy face appeared in the screen. Innocently, she apologized, "I'm sorry Steven, did I wake you?"

Rubbing blearily at his dark eyes, Steve said through a yawn, "No, not at all. What can I do for you Susan?"

‘Liar,' she thought fondly. "I've got a question for you. A friend of mine has a child who's going on a trip from Mars to Earth for the first time. Is there anything she should worry about?"

Slowly waking up for real, Susan could see Steven's mind start working through the three a.m. fog, he answered, "Shouldn't be. How old's the child?"

"Three months."

"That's a little young. Is the trip necessary?" Steven asked with faint, medical concern.

"Family emergency," Susan explained.

"Ah. Well. I would think the best option would be to sedate the infant and inoculate against Shipman's Disease. Other than that, it should be fine," he said.

"What about check points? Aren't those usually where children are exposed to the most widespread of viruses?" Susan questioned.

"Yes, I suppose so. But if the infant is healthy, there really isn't anything to worry about. The checkpoints on both Earth and Mars are subject to decontamination on a regular basis," Steven assured her. "What's the problem Susan? Why are you asking me all of this? The parent can get this information from their pediatrician."

Smiling, Susan answered, "Just a little project, that's all Steven. Nothing to concern yourself with."

Eyeing her in patent disbelief, he said, "A project of yours that wakes me up at 3 a.m. obviously is cause for concern, Susan. Spill. What are you up to?"

"Nothing, Steven. I'm just doing research for my friend," Susan repeated, smiling innocently.

"Uh-huh."

"I'm hurt that you don't believe me."

"Uh-huh. Try that look on Sheridan, you might get somewhere," Steven teased, grinning reluctantly back at her.

"Not a chance. He knows me better than you do," Susan retorted.

"Well, whatever it is, I'm all for it if it gets you smiling like this. Just next time, try and remember the time difference, all right?" Steven begged.

"I'll try," Susan promised insincerely.

Steven groaned. "Say good night, Susan."

"Good night, Susan," she repeated dutifully before turning off the vidphone.

Susan punched in the connection code and waited. After several moments, Michael's face appeared in the screen in the middle of exclaiming, "What?"

"Well if you're going to be that way about it, I won't call you at all," Susan remarked cheerfully.

"Susan? Hey! What the hell are you calling me for at...one forty-seven a.m.?" Michael demanded, running a hand over his nearly bald head. Blue gray eyes regarded her too sharply for him to have been sleeping.

"What's the matter, Garibaldi, getting old?" Susan asked sympathetically.

"You can't tell that by my full and downy head of hair?" he retorted.

"Ok. You're in a bad mood. I can see that. I'll just call back..."

"Ivanova. What's going on? Are you all right?" Michael interrupted, turning serious.

"I'm fine." Susan smiled at his skeptical snort and continued, "Really, I am. I was just wondering if you were going to be around for a visit in a couple of days."

"You're coming here?" At her nod, he exclaimed, "Of course I'll be around! I'll make sure I'm around. Matter of fact, if anyone tries to send me somewhere else I'll just put a hole in their air tank."

"I don't think you need to get quite that violent, Garibaldi," Susan commented with a grin.

"Yeah well, just want to make sure you know that you're welcome here any time," Michael said firmly. "How long you staying?"

"How long are you going to be there? You're a hard man to track down, Garibaldi," Susan observed.

Mouth twisting wryly, Michael replied, "Talk to Sheridan. He's the one who has me gophering all over the damned galaxy. But I'm going to be on Mars for about another three weeks."

"Perfect. I'll probably only be there for about a week. Mind putting me up?" Susan asked.

"I think I can find somewhere to put you," he answered with a wink.

"In other words, bring a sleeping bag," Susan guessed.

"Hey. I've got real guest quarters here I'll have you know," Michael said.

"Yeah? I'll believe it when I see it," she countered.

"Damn. It's good to see you back, Susan," Michael said quietly.

Awkwardly, Susan replied, "I'm sorry, Michael. I didn't mean to worry you so much. It's just..."

"I know," Michael said simply.

And she knew that he did. Michael had lost just as much as she had in that dirty war, sometimes she thought he'd lost more because at least she could safely say that no one had invaded her mind. "Thank you."

Michael held her eyes for a long moment. "Anytime. So. When's your flight get in?"

"I haven't actually arranged it yet. I was going to do that after we'd talked," Susan explained. "I'll code the information over to you."

"Sounds like a plan. And Ivanova?"

"Yeah Garibaldi?"

"Check the damned time table next time, all right? A little courtesy here. I don't get any respect from you people."

Susan wasn't fooled by the complaining tone, she could see the warmth and affection in his eyes even from millions of light years away. Michael might be a hard ass to the world at large but to his friends, he was the staunchest and most caring of men. "Like you were sleeping anyhow?"

"I might have been!"

"Yeah right. Getting soft, Garibaldi."

"Back at you, Ivanova."

"I'll talk to you later," Susan closed with a smile.

"I'll be here. Night, Susan."

"Good night, Michael."

The vidphone went black once more and Susan dialed in her final call of the night. This time it was answered on the second tone and John's harried expression filled the screen. His face cleared practically right away, lighting up when he saw it was her. "Afternoon, John."

"Susan! How are you?" John asked.

"Good," Susan replied, meaning it. She knew that there would still be moments of pain and anger, probably even some bad spells of the depression she was prone to, over what had happened but for now, she was good. She had a purpose again.

He searched her face for a few moments then relaxed almost imperceptibly. "So. What can I do for you Captain?"

Susan chuckled. "Not that good."

John shrugged, blue eyes smiling back at her. "I just thought I'd give it a try."

"How are you doing? I heard the Swearing In was a little rocky," Susan said with worry.

John snorted in obvious amusement. "When everything was said and done, G'kar performed in his inimitable fashion."

Extremely curious now, she asked, "What did he say?"

"He said, ‘Do you want to be president?' I was a bit dumbfounded and stared at him for a second then said, ‘Yes.' He nodded and said, ‘Good. You're President. Let's eat.'"

Susan shook with laughter until she couldn't breathe, leaning against the wall for support. Finally gasping in a breath deep enough to speak, she wiped her eyes clear and said, "I wish there was a vid of that! God! Priceless!"

Smiling in earnest now, John said warmly, "It's good to hear you laugh again, Susan."

Still grinning at the image she had no trouble conjuring, Susan shook her head and said, "It's good to laugh."

"While I am happy to have prompted this display of laughter," John began, imitating G'kar's tone and bearing. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?"

Chuckling at the fairly accurate representation of the Ambassador, Susan said, "I'm going to be on Babylon5 late next week with a friend. I didn't know if you'd be in the area for a visit?"

Hesitantly, John asked, "I thought you weren't...coming back to Babylon5?"

Susan sighed, turning serious. "Words said in anger and not a little despair, John."

"I understand."

And, like Garibaldi, Susan knew that he did. Unlike her, John didn't have the luxury of abdicating his responsibilities. A shot of guilt went through her. She should be there, helping him as she had always done. She was his second in command, his right arm, no matter what that command might be or where it might be located. "John, I'm sorry."

Startled, he repeated, "Sorry? What for?"

Eyebrows scrunching together in a frown, she answered, "I should be there with you. Now. I shouldn't have gone off like I did. If I'd been there, you can be damned sure that assassin wouldn't have gotten as close to you as he did."

Looking at her thoughtfully, John said, "You needed the space, Susan, and the time to grieve. I understood that, still do. You wouldn't have been any good to me as you were, not with everything that you'd gone through. And off the record, even though Michael is still wearing a sackcloth undershirt for just that reason, I doubt he'd appreciate you implying that he can't keep me safe."

"I suppose not," she agreed dryly.

"I'm just glad that you're on the mend," he said in honest relief. "I was worried."

"I know. You and Michael and Steven. And I'm sorry for that, too," she said with regret.

"Hey. That's what friends do, remember?" he reminded softly.

Tears pricked at her eyes and her throat grew tight. Huskily, she said, "Thanks John."

He nodded slowly then took a deep breath. "On to current business then. When should we expect you?"

"I don't have the details just yet but I'll send them to you when I do," Susan said.

"Good. Good. Well, I'll let you go then, it's got to be late there. You could have called me in the morning, Susan," John said.

Grinning, she replied, "I wouldn't want to disturb you so late."

"Like that's ever stopped you before?" John remarked pointedly.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Susan replied innocently.

"Don't even try those wide baby blues on me, Ivanova. I know you better than that," John warned. He looked off to his left and nodded. "I have to go, Susan. We'll talk later."

"Will do, John. Say hello to Delenn and G'kar for me," Susan asked.

"I will. Good night."

"Night."

The screen went black for the final time that night.

* * * *

The most obvious thing to do was to hire a private frigate that had no other passengers and bribe the Captain to overlook them on his manifest. The second most obvious thing to do was to book passage on a strictly commercial freighter as one of hundreds of passengers. In either scenario, there was an excellent chance of avoiding the PsiCorp checkpoint by some backdoor exit. Once on board the frigate or freighter, the Level 5 PsiCorp standard deployment operative should be too far away to scan anyone on the ship.

‘Obvious' and ‘excellent chance' and ‘should be' were not words and phrases that brought comfort to Susan's mind. Too many variables that she wanted nothing to do with. First of all, there were PsiCorp operatives in place in many positions throughout every starbase and shipping center but most definitely on Mars and Earth. Since Mars and Earth were both points of entry and exit, there was no getting around either. So bypassing the physical disembarking points would do little to improve their odds.

No. If they were going to do this right, then there were several things that needed to be in play prior to Susan leaving St. Petersburg for Mars. It was sheer luck that Michael was on Mars for the actual extraction. He hated PsiCorp with more of a passion than she did and that was a hell of a lot. It would take little convincing to have him give her and Ellen the "official" escort through customs and onto the waiting passenger liner. Even if the PsiCorp agent got close enough to scan them, which was extremely doubtful given Michael's paranoia on that count, there was nothing he or she could do about it.

Did she feel guilt for using Michael this way? Only in that she couldn't tell him what was going on. If he knew, he'd broadcast it far and away without even realizing it. He might even still be linked to Bester somehow and if that was the case, an escort would be waiting on earth to first take mother and child into "protective" custody and then arrest Susan for willfully harboring telepaths. No, she knew that Michael fully approved of anything that would tweak Bester's nose if at all possible.

The liner would make it to Babylon5 overnight and there were no such checkpoints in place on Babylon5. John would never stand for it, even if the new Captain Lochley might, so there was no PsiCorp presence on Babylon5 at all. Come to think of it, there were rumors of a telepath group living on the station. She'd have to check with Zak when she got there. She and Ellen would stay on Babylon5 for a couple of days, taking in the sights and visiting old friends like every other visitor. It just happened that Susan's friends were high-ranking officials and ambassadors.

Grinning briefly at the strange twist of fate that had brought that circumstance about, Susan toyed with the pen in her hand for a moment. She'd discovered over the last couple of days of planning that ‘doodling' as Steven called it, came naturally to her. Littered over the once pristine beige pages of paper were 3-D shapes and geometric symbols of all kinds. It was soothing to have her hands busy while her thoughts were likewise in motion.

Leaving Babylon5 for Earth would be the easiest part of the trip because there were no hostile telepaths to worry about. Gaining entry to Earth without ending up in handcuffs was the trouble spot. There were scanners both at Luna Colony and at Earthdock itself. Susan was still searching for a liner that would leave Babylon5 and come directly to Earthdock so there would be one less checkpoint to worry about but so far she'd been coming up short.

Jacob had come through in fine style with the credits necessary for the journey. She could choose any liner she wanted. She did wonder what sort of "protection" he had for his grandniece that would keep PsiCorp at bay. She also wished that it had been available for her own mother. Susan would rather never had seen her mother again than have lived with the drug-induced zombie her mother had become. Then to find her mother's body after the suicide...

Shaking those thoughts firmly from her mind, Susan returned to the planning. Dropping the pen onto the coffee table alongside the journal, she stood and walked to the kitchen, stretching as she went. Flight out was tonight. She should pack. Still planning, still thinking. It had been so long since she'd actually done something that it felt unfamiliar to her. She felt hesitant and that too was unfamiliar.

Instead of making lunch, Susan prowled the apartment restlessly. Thinking was always a part of doing; the two were not mutually exclusive. Matter of fact, if you acted without thought things had a way of getting very bad, very fast.

Without thinking now, she spun on her heel and dialed in John's communication code; his private one. After a few moments, his face appeared and he looked very surprised to see her on the vidscreen. "Susan? What's wrong?"

Feeling foolish, she said, "I'm not who I was."

"Hang on," John ordered with concern. He turned to someone she couldn't see and ordered, "Out. Now. Don't argue with me Elizabeth, please. We'll pick this up later."

"Mr. President."

"Now." John stared down the other person with the same glare that had sent ancient alien lifeforms packing and after a moment, he returned his attention to Susan. Running a hand through his hand, sending the short strands askew, he seemed to be looking for a place to begin.

"I'm sorry, John. I shouldn't have called," Susan muttered, reaching for the disconnect.

"Don't you dare disconnect me, Captain!"

Instinctively straightening at the tone of command, Susan's hand fell before completing the gesture. She automatically stood at parade rest, hands clasped behind her back, feet a shoulder-length apart.

Still staring at her sharply, John demanded, "What's this all about?"

"You want me to come back to command," Susan said.

"And?" Blue eyes didn't let go of her for a second.

"And I don't know if I can," she admitted bleakly.

"Explain yourself."

"Because of me, because of my actions, Marcus died. No, hear me out. I know it's what he chose. I know about sending people to their deaths because that's what we, what I did in the shadow war. I don't know if I can do that again. I second-guess myself all the time and the only thing I have to decide these days is what color clothes to wear and what to eat. I don't think I can return to a command position. I'm living too much in my head these days."

John sighed and leaned back in his chair, looking at her thoughtfully. "You are, without a doubt, the most aggravating person I know, Susan."

The tone and words were so completely at odds with his expression that it took a second to penetrate. "Excuse me?"

Shaking his head, he continued, "You're an officer, Susan. A damned fine officer, one of the best that I have ever been privileged to work with. I have never known you to take a bad turn when it counts. You are brave, resourceful, intelligent, loyal, fierce, thoughtful, quick on your feet, have a mean right hook, stop me when this gets too embarrassing for you."

Susan laughed through the tears that had started to gather. Wiping quickly at her eyes, she said, "You can keep going if you like." He didn't laugh but his eyes lit up, crinkling at the corners as he smiled fully. Susan loved to see him smile like that; it took years off his face that the silver in his hair betrayed. She held up a hand when he opened his mouth to do just that. "No, John, that's fine. I...I guess I just needed the reassurance that I haven't lost my touch. I feel so useless and thick-headed and I'm not used to that."

"Then come back. Right now. I have a Warlock-class destroyer that is just waiting for you to take command," he said instantly and with complete confidence.

It was that total conviction in her that finally drove his point home. He believed in her. The President of the Interstellar Alliance, her commanding officer of 4 years, completely believed in her without a doubt. If John Sheridan believed in her then maybe she should start believing in herself again. She briefly thought of an old saying, ‘You can't have faith in others if you don't have faith in yourself.' and wondered if perhaps the reverse was sometimes true as well.

Coming out of her thoughts slowly, Susan raised her eyes to his and nodded abruptly. "I have one thing I need to do first, Mr. President. Someone is counting on me and I can't let them down."

Nodding slowly, he replied, "That's acceptable, Captain. Just don't take too long about it. We are in serious need of fine and experienced officers like yourself."

"Thank you, Sir."

"You're welcome, Captain. Oh, and Captain?"

Eyebrow arcing, Susan replied, "Yes, Mr. President."

He flashed her another radiant smile and said, "It's good to have you back, Susan."

Smiling back, Susan echoed slowly, feeling the truth in the matter, "It's good to be back, John."

* * * *

The trip to Mars was long and boring and Susan was about out of her mind by the end of it. She'd brought her journal and pen on board with her, not trusting them to the baggage machines. She had intended to do some writing, maybe just some doodling to occupy her mind during the flight. It had been a long time since she'd made this sort of trip as a civilian and she now remembered why. About fifteen minutes into the flight, a young girl had come over and asked her a million questions about the journal and pen. Then her brother showed up and they got into an argument over who was going to be allowed one of the pages. Susan had been about to explode when the mother showed up to escort them both away.

At least on a military ship there weren't any children to worry about.

Finally the ship docked and she moved impatiently through the press of people, ignoring the two PsiCorp agents standing on both sides of the exit. Keeping her irritation with the children fresh in her mind, as well as her anticipation of seeing Michael again, Susan sailed through the checkpoint.

"Ivanova! Over here!"

Susan looked towards Garibaldi's shout and saw the grinning man standing over towards the side of the exit ramp. Striding past the other passengers, she reached him in short order and found herself engulfed in his strong arms. She returned the hug, holding him tight for a long moment before pulling back. She smiled up at him and said, "You are getting old, Garibaldi."

"You are so kind, Ivanova," Michael answered, his grin not lessening a bit. "C'mon, let's get your gear and then we'll get something to eat. How was the flight?"

Eyes rolling, Susan followed him towards the baggage claim and said, "Too long with too many kids."

"Now you know why I never fly private anymore," Michael said dryly.

Snorting, Susan said, "If I could change my flights from here to B5 and then to Earth, I would do it in a heartbeat!"

Thoughtfully, Michael offered, "I could probably get you on the supply run leaving here tomorrow but then you'd have to cut your trip short."

Honestly surprised, Susan asked, "Since when do you let civilians onto a military tub?"

"Since one of the civilians is my best friend," he retorted.

Warmed by the gruff statement, Susan touched his shoulder lightly and said, "Thanks, Michael, that would be great if you can swing it."

He shrugged it off and said, "Not like you aren't going to be military again in short order anyhow."

"You've talked to John!" she accused.

Grinning once more, he nodded. "Good news travels fast but bad news..."

"Travels faster," she finished with a laugh. She spotted her bag and grabbed it off the circulating conveyor belt. Michael took it from her, ignoring her laughing protest.

"Hey, it's the least I can do for my soon to be ex-civilian friend," he said, easily shouldering the bag. "Hey, you're traveling light these days. What, did you leave the kitchen sink back on earth?"

"Funny man," Susan said dryly.

They walked to the transport tube that would bring them to Garibaldi's temporary living quarters. It was a short but quiet trip and yet Susan didn't feel the need to make conversation. She and Michael had always been comfortable in the silences between them. If either of them had something to say, they said it. The tube stopped and she followed him outside to the busy street.

Each bubble on Mars contained a city and while from space it didn't look like much, on the surface, the buildings were just as tall and closely packed together as any other planet. People moved about their business, ignoring her and Michael as all good city dwellers did; well, except perhaps for Minbaris and Narn who were friendly to everyone. There seemed to be a great many more ‘alien' residents than she'd thought and she mentioned it to Michael.

"Now that Mars is its own colony, we're trying to get as many traders and merchants on planet as possible," Michael explained. "The economy is still in flux from the war and people are still trying to put their lives back together."

Which gave her the perfect opening. Sighing, Susan said, "I know. That's why I'm here."

A gray eyebrow quirked at her and Michael asked, "Oh?"

"Yeah. A friend of mine on earth, good friend to my parents, is looking for his grandniece. She's his only family left and the last time they talked, just before the battle to free Mars, she told him she was pregnant. He doesn't have the credits to get here and search himself so I've got her last known address and a picture of her. I'm hoping she's still here and all right," Susan explained.

Michael stopped in front of an impressive looking, five story residence and pressed his palm to the entrance plate. The door opened as he said, "I can help you with that. Give me the info and I'll have my people find out if she's still there. If she isn't, they'll look for her. Save you the legwork."

Gratified by the offer, Susan accepted honestly, "I was hoping that you'd offer. I doubt that I'd have the time to make a real search for her before I need to leave."

"No problem. And here we are!"

Whistling in surprise as they entered the apartment, Susan said, "Damn Garibaldi! Who did you kill to get this place?"

He snorted. "Perks of being the head of security for the President of the new Interstellar Alliance."

It was a huge living room, decorated in subtle woods and golden accents. The matched sofa and chairs were plush and the coffee table made of brass and glass. The floor was a gorgeous hardwood and the lighting fixtures were subtly placed and gold as well. Off to the right were two doors that, she assumed, led to either bed or bathrooms. To the left was a large, walk-in kitchen. "I'm in the wrong business."

Chuckling, Michael said, "We could always use you, Ivanova."

Grinning ruefully, Susan replied, "I'm an Earth Forcer, Michael, always will be."

"The offer's there if you want it," Michael said seriously.

She reached out to squeeze his arm. "Thank you. I appreciate it."

He looked at her for a long moment then said, "Let's get you settled, then you can give me that info and we'll go grab something to eat."

Susan smiled. "Sounds like a plan to me."

* * * *

The restaurant Garibaldi picked reminded Susan of the Zocolo on Babylon5. It was open and airy with two dining sections, one of them raised so you could see the entire restaurant. The wait staff was a mix of races and it seemed as though many of the ‘alien' residents went there to eat and socialize. When they stepped inside, Susan glanced inquiringly at Michael who shrugged.

"What? I like the food."

"Uh huh," Susan grunted casually.

"Oh all right. Some of the established places around here are a little xenophobic after buying all of Clark's bullshit," Garibaldi admitted. "I feel more comfortable knowing my waiter doesn't care what race I am, all right?"

Smiling sweetly, Susan commented, "I don't blame you."

Frowning, Michael asked, "That was an insult, wasn't it?"

"Of course not."

It was Garibaldi's turn to grunt.

The host showed them to their table, one that had the wall to their backs and a full, unobstructed view of both entrances. Susan grinned. "Come here often, Garibaldi?"

His echoing grin was a bit sheepish. "Often enough."

"Mr. Garibaldi! What a pleasure to see you again!"

Susan choked back a laugh as the waiter approached. He was a fairly young man with dark hair and eyes and a bubbly manner. He asked Michael how his back was doing and had Michael tried the new chiropractic doctor who had just arrived a month earlier like the waiter had recommended.

"Ah no, I haven't had a chance to check him out, but thanks Jeff. This is my friend Susan, she's here on a short visit," Michael introduced. The waiter took his first good look at her and blanched, turning as white as the plastered walls. Frowning, Michael demanded, "Something wrong?"

Somewhat regaining his composure, Jeff answered, "No! Not at all! It's just...aren't you Commander Ivanova? The voice of the resistance?"

Susan flushed but nodded. "That's me."

Jeff reached out hesitantly and touched her shoulder. "It's an honor to meet you, Commander Ivanova. I don't think you know...how much your broadcasts meant to all of us here. Especially during the worst of the occupation. It was like...well...I felt as though we weren't alone. That someone, somewhere, was doing all they could to help us. Thank you so much."

Moved, Susan reached up and covered his hand with her own. "I wish we could have done more, sooner."

He smiled, tears in his eyes, then visibly collected himself. "Do you enjoy a good steak, Commander?"

A bit nonplussed at the sudden change in topic, Susan nodded.

"Good. Then you just leave dinner to me. I will take excellent care of you. Michael, tonight dinner is on the house for you and your wonderful companion," Jeff announced.

Susan opened her mouth to protest but he was gone before she could. Worried, she turned to Michael and asked, "Can he do that? It won't get him in trouble?"

Michael was still staring after Jeff's retreating form as he answered, "Nope. He owns the joint."

"He does? But he's only, what, twenty five years old?" Susan exclaimed.

Looking at her again, Michael shrugged. "He's a lot older than that where it counts, Susan. He was one of the resistance cell leaders. Somehow I don't think that running a business is all that scary after you've been through a war."

* * * *

When Susan woke the next morning, it was after a restless sleep. The bed was actually too soft for her to be completely comfortable on. That and the fact that her thoughts were all a-jumble from that evening's dinner. All through the meal, various Mars resistance members came up to them to thank her. They had all been very respectful, very grateful and very emotional. Time after time, she heard about how her broadcast was the only thing giving them hope. Time after time, she was told how bad things had been until the forces of Babylon5 showed up.

By the end of the night, Susan was ready to run screaming from the restaurant. The only thing that stopped her was the obligation she felt towards the people who had been through so much. The very least she could do was give them a chance to tell her how they felt. Garibaldi had looked guiltier and guiltier as the night wore on and she wondered if maybe he'd taken her there knowing that that would happen.

As she padded barefoot out of the bedroom, it was to find Michael already up and sitting at the kitchen table reading the paper. Frowning, knowing that he wasn't a morning person, she asked, "What time is it?"

"A little after ten, sleeping beauty," Michael answered, looking up from his paper with a smile.

"Ten thirty?" she exclaimed. "Michael! I need to find Helen!"

"Relax. Sit and eat your breakfast. She's been found," Michael informed her. "She's at exactly the same address as before the war. She has a little girl who is three months old. She works at a local coffee shop and isn't going anywhere."

Susan swallowed back the annoyed words that threatened and smiled instead. It was a bit forced, but given that she was being even more high-handed than Michael just had been, she had no cause to complain. So she walked into the kitchen and pulled out the pitcher of grapefruit flavored juice that Michael had bought for her and poured a glass. Sipping at the bitter juice, she moved back to the table and sat down.

"Got a question for you."

Susan nodded, waiting.

"Why are you really here Ivanova?"

Piercing gray-blue eyes stared into her own and Susan wondered what she should tell him. Unhurried, she answered, "I'm here to visit a friend and check up on Jacob's grandniece."

"When did you start taking me for an idiot?" Michael questioned seriously.

"Never," Susan answered.

"Then you might want to revise your statement," he suggested smoothly. "Otherwise I might have to haul in Ms. Zlentka for questioning. Since her granduncle is the infamous Jacob Zlentka of St. Petersburg."

Fuck. He'd do it, too, Susan knew. He knew something was going on and didn't like being kept out of the loop. Michael knew her enough to know that it wasn't anything that would put John in danger. He also knew her well enough to know she'd have no qualms about doing just that to herself. So now he was probably trying to protect her from herself. Probably didn't really buy that she was returning to Earth Force either.

"I can't tell you what's going on Michael. I can tell you that it's something I need to do if I'm ever going to be able to look at myself in the mirror again. I can also say that it's something I need to do in order to feel even a little bit like my old self. Lastly, I can tell you that if you did know, you'd probably approve."

Staring at her intently, Michael finally said, "Probably approve."

Susan shrugged. "With you, anything's possible. In this case, however, I think it's a pretty safe bet."

After another minute or so he nodded abruptly. "All right. But when this is all over and done with, I want a full report."

She gave him a mock salute and said, "Yes, Sir!"

Scowling, he muttered, "Smartass."

"You'd be worried if I was anything but," Susan teased.

His scowl faded a little as he asked, "Are you really going back to Earth Force?"

Susan nodded. "Once I'm done with this, John's got a Warlock-class destroyer waiting for me. I assume it's some kind of reconnaissance and/or patrol mission for the Alliance but he didn't go into details."

A relieved smile crossed Michael's face. "I wasn't sure that you'd ever come around. Six months is a long time, Susan."

Softly, she replied, "Has it been that long?"

* * * *

Susan walked into the coffee shop and breathed in the scent of real coffee. That was the only thing it had in common with Jacob's shop. Where his was old fashioned and comfortable, this place was modern and all sharp edges. She spotted Helen right away behind the counter and got in line. It was just before the late afternoon crowd so she didn't wait long. She smiled at the weary looking woman behind the counter and said, "You're uncle says hello."

Green eyes, much like Jacob's, jumped up to hers and Helen exclaimed, "You know my uncle?"

Nodding, Susan replied, "My name is Susan Ivanova, Jacob calls me Susenchka."

"How is he?" the woman asked eagerly.

"Healthy as an ox and louder than a shuttle with a bad ignition," Susan answered dryly.

Relief colored Helen's face and she said, "I'm so glad! I was worried when he missed both our calls last week and this."

"That's actually my fault," Susan said. "We were playing chess."

"Really? Does he still have the board in the shop?"

"He does. Actually, I was wondering if I could talk you into a game this evening?" Susan asked. She didn't think there were any PsiCorp spies around but it never hurt to be careful. "I'm hoping that you might be a little easier to beat than your uncle."

Helen laughed. "I'm much easier to beat than Uncle Jacob. I would love to. I finish up here in about a half-hour. Did you want to come back or hang around?"

"I'll take a cappuccino and wait," Susan said.

She drew the cappuccino out, sipping and watching the people who entered and left the coffee shop as she waited. The chair wasn't nearly as comfortable as the overstuffed ones at Jacob's but it probably wasn't meant to be. She had just finished the hot drink when Helen came over, dressed in normal clothes instead of her uniform. "Ready to go?"

Helen nodded and asked, "We have to pick up my daughter first."

Susan nodded. "Of course. Lead on."

It didn't take long to get to the home of a friend of Helen's who watched the baby during the day. It was an older woman who spoke to Helen in Russian so Susan assumed it to be a friend of Jacob's. She smiled politely and made as though she didn't understand the conversation the two women held around her.

"Who is this?" the old woman asked suspiciously.

"She says she's a friend of Jacob's," Helen answered, picking up the baby and cooing at her a moment.

"No one who's a friend of Jacob's actually says that," the woman said derisively.

"That's what I was thinking as well. But I also wanted to know more about her, thought that if Sasha here surprised the woman with one of her tricks, it would give me a chance to scan her a little," Helen agreed.

"Good plan. You watch out for yourself and the little darling," the old woman said firmly.

Helen smiled, buttoning up the baby's coat. "I will, thanks Nana."

"Anytime my dear."

Susan followed Helen back outside and onto the transport tube without comment or any sign that she'd understood the conversation. She could understand the woman's suspicion given the circumstances. Once they were settled for a nice chat, Susan would explain everything. Assuming Helen gave her a chance of course. In the meantime, she chatted about the interesting sites she'd seen while on Mars which actually consisted of nothing but Susan could bullshit with the best of them, courtesy of her time as John's XO.

It was only about fifteen minutes before the stepped off the tube again and started walking down the street. They were about to turn the corner when someone called her name. Instantly on alert, Susan turned to find Jeff barreling down the street towards them. "What the...?"

Skidding to a halt in front of them, Jeff said quietly, "You can't go there, PsiCorp is waiting for you both."

"Shit!" Susan exclaimed. "How did they know?"

"Garibaldi thinks one of Zlentka's people copped to it," Jeff answered.

"Garibaldi knows?" Susan demanded.

Giving her a lopsided grin, Jeff answered, "What doesn't he know?"

"When to keep his nose out of it," Susan muttered.

Jeff snorted. "No argument there. If you come with me, we can get you into the spaceport without PsiCorp knowing. Garibaldi said he'd have your things sent out on the supplier you were originally going to use."

"Wait just a fragging minute here," Helen exclaimed. "Someone had better tell me what's going on!"

"Jacob sent me to get you," Susan said flatly. "He knew it wouldn't be safe for you and the baby here for much longer but couldn't get you back to Earth. I've got the contacts to make it happen. You can either come with us now or end up in PsiCorp. It's your choice."

After a second, Helen's eyes widened and she said reverently, "You're Commander Ivanova!"

Biting back a groan, Susan nodded. "Yes. That's me. Can we go now? I don't feel like going to prison for helping a blip escape PsiCorp."

"Of course!" Helen agreed.

"Good. Jeff? Lead on."

* * * *

They entered the spaceport via the sewers. Jeff commented that he knew them better than the streets above. A fact that depressed Susan to no end. That this handsome young man had been forced to live much like a sewer rat was just so wrong that she couldn't even begin to articulate it. Helen kept the baby as quiet as she could but there were a few tense moments when crying almost alerted the routine patrols that monitored the spaceport security. It took forever to navigate the dark sewers but finally, they reached a huge, circular metal hatch in the wall.

"Garibaldi said that the Captain is a buddy of Sheridan's so when you show up for dinner, they'll be expecting you," Jeff reported as he keyed in the security code.

Groaning, Susan thumped her head against the nearest wall a few times.

"Susan?" Helen asked with concern.

Sighing, Susan answered, "I'm fine. I was trying to do this without involving my friends but, as usual, they've gone and gotten involved anyhow."

"Isn't that a good thing?" Helen asked.

‘If getting involved doesn't create a galactic incident or PsiCorp battle or another civil war, yes,' Susan almost replied sarcastically. Biting the words back, she replied, "Yes, of course."

The fact that they were helping her despite her attempts to keep them in the dark only made her love them all more fiercely. She wondered when Steven was going to pop up to help. Just then Jeff opened the bay door and said, "Here you go. Head straight down this corridor, turn left and the next hatch you find will be a docking hatch that will give you entrance to the freighter. Give Captain Morrissey my regards."

Smiling, Susan held out her hand and said warmly, "I will. And thank you for your help, Jeff. I truly appreciate it."

He took her hand, squeezing it briefly before saying, "Thank you, Commander. For giving me the opportunity to repay you, if only a little."

Then he was gone, sprinting down the sewer corridor. Susan motioned for Helen to precede her then stepped through herself. She hit the closing sequence and started moving before it was fully done. They took the next left and found the corridor ended a short distance in the hatch Jeff had described. Recognizing it as a standard Earth Force model, Susan typed in her command codes and it opened instantly.

Wondering if she wouldn't be safer staying on Mars than facing John's irritation, Susan hesitated.

"Susan?"

‘It won't be that bad,' Susan said to herself firmly. Aloud, she said, "I'm coming."

* * * *

It was that bad. The moment Susan saw John's face, she knew that she was in deep trouble and groaned. To anyone who didn't know him, John would appear pleasantly polite and attentive. The few who knew how to see beyond his mask, would be cringing at the tell-tale clenching of his jaw and the subtle flaring of his nostrils as though he smelled something bad. Putting a good face on, she smiled and greeted, "Mr. President. May I introduce Helen Zlentka and her daughter Sasha."

John focused his considerable charm on them and said, "It's a pleasure to meet any friend of Captain Ivanova's."

Helen flushed and took his hand. "Thank you, M-Mr. President."

"Please, call me John. This is my wife, Delenn. You don't mind if she shows you to your guest quarters, do you?" John asked.

Obviously overwhelmed at meeting two such famous people, Helen nodded faintly and succumbed to Delenn's own, not inconsiderable charm, as the Minbari took hold of both Helen and the baby, escorting them quickly out of the danger zone. Susan offered him a weak smile and said, "Hi John."

Glaring, he pointed a finger at her and ordered, "Don't ‘Hi John' me. You have some serious explaining to do. My office. Now."

Unfortunately for Susan, no one stopped them on the way to his office. It was probably the deadly look in his eyes that promised the wrath of God if anyone got in the way. Whatever the reason, they were in his fairly luxurious office within minutes and Susan found herself standing at attention in front of his desk staring straight ahead, waiting for the fireworks to start.

"What. The hell. Did you think. You. Were doing?" John bit out, standing intimidatingly close, almost breathing the words down her neck.

This was worse than her drill sergeant, Susan thought with an inward cringe. She knew better than to actually say anything. It was far too early for a defense.

"I've seen you pull some stupid stunts in the time we served together but this has got to take the cake!" John exclaimed, stalking away. Turning back to her, he continued, "I know you think you're doing the right thing here but what if you got caught? Did you think about how this would affect your career? Did you think about how Bester would just love to get his hands into you? Did you even think about the risk to that young woman and baby? Smuggling a telepath, no, two telepaths, from Mars to Earth. Deliberately using your rank to avoid the checkpoints. Using your friends to help."

Susan started to protest but his glare increased and she subsided. The dressing-down was obviously far from over and she quickly returned her eyes forward to stare at the most interesting space of white wall she'd ever seen.

"The risk of what you are doing is phenomenal. The consequences of being caught even more so. The fact that you went ahead with it anyhow...well...why the hell didn't you just come to us and let us help you instead of doing it on your own? Damn it, Susan! Do you honestly think that we would turn you down?"

Now she could speak. Susan heard the frustration mixed with disappointment in John's voice and knew that his anger had been vented. Taking a breath, she said, "It wasn't that, John, please believe me. Remember when I called you? Told you I didn't think I could do it anymore?"

A worried look crossed his face before being erased. "How could I forget? That was one of the scariest moments in my life."

"I'm sorry. I just thought...if I could do this...pull it off then I would know I was still myself," Susan explained hesitantly. It was hard to face his anger and disappointment but even harder to see the fear she'd caused him. He cared so much for all of them; too much, really. "I didn't mean to worry you. I just...I had to do this. And I didn't tell you and Michael and Steven because of the risk. I didn't want you to be put into a position of knowing that one of your officers had violated the telepath ban. Plausible deniability, remember?"

"Fuck plausible deniability," John said harshly.

Flinching at the unexpected curse, Susan realized then just how badly she'd screwed up. John didn't see this as her needing to prove something to herself. He saw this as her not trusting him to back her up. Without thinking, she moved over to him and threw her arms around his neck, holding him tight. After remaining stiff in her arms for a long moment, John relaxed and wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his face in her hair.

"I'm sorry," she said raggedly.

"Don't ever do this again, Susan. I don't think my heart can take it and I've got it on good authority that I've used up at least eight of my nine lives."

Looking up at him, she nodded and half smiled. They were still in the middle of silent commander to first-officer communication when a hesitant voice asked, "Do we need to hide a body?"

Laughing a bit unsteadily at Delenn's question, Susan and John broke apart. She turned to face the ambassador who was still standing at the door, uncertain as to her welcome. Susan motioned for the other woman to come in and the dark eyes lit up though her expression remained somewhat concerned. Susan had always thought it a crime that such a beautiful woman was burdened with so much. Meeting Delenn halfway, Susan found herself in another tight hug and breathed in the other woman's customary, spicy fragrance. It was soothing to know that some things just did not change. Pulling back from the embrace, Susan said, "He's given me a stay of execution."

Chuckling softly, Delenn replied, "This surprises me greatly considering his choice of words when Mr. Garibaldi called to inform us of the situation. I must say that it was quite an interesting education in the, ah, more colorful phrases of your language."

Susan quirked an eyebrow at John who flushed a little and said defensively, "I was worried."

Both women nodded, commiserating with each other. John snorted and said, "Now that the air has been cleared..."

"Burned clear with invective, I am certain," Delenn observed mildly.

"I believe we can sit down and discuss this like rational adults," John continued as though she hadn't spoken.

Susan looked at Delenn and commented, "Now he wants to be rational."

"Happens every so often with human males. I don't believe we should waste the opportunity," Delenn agreed.

Shaking his head as though wondering what he'd done to deserve such a fate, John said, "I'll just sit down and wait for the heckling to stop."

"Now he's hurt," Susan observed, eyes twinkling.

"Fragile male ego," Delenn agreed, sober tone belying the merry glint in her eyes.

Sighing heavily, John wondered plaintively aloud, "Where's Garibaldi when I really need his protection?"

* * * *

After a long and comfortable conversation over dinner brought in, it was decided that Susan could not accompany Helen to Earth. According to Michael, PsiCorp knew someone was helping the woman but didn't specifically know whom. The informant hadn't, apparently, revealed the information to the Corp. Susan figured that it was more likely that Jacob had never told anyone who was doing the actual job. It was enough that PsiCorp knew it was two women traveling with a baby.

"Though where he gets his intel, I don't think I want to know. Especially considering Jacob's, er, leanings," Susan admitted late into the night.

Delenn was sitting with John on the sofa, her head resting drowsily on his shoulder as his fingers played lazily with a strand of her long, dark hair. Just another comfy night of the Mr. and Mrs. plotting to undermine PsiCorp, Susan thought with a grin.

Looking at her wryly, he asked, "I probably don't want to know?"

Susan shook her head. "Probably not."

"Good thing he's on our side," John commented.

From the way his face clouded, Susan knew that John was thinking of when Garibaldi hadn't been on their side. Of the time that Bester had planted a psychic order in Michael's mind to turn against all his friends and then betray them. "How are you two doing? Really?"

John looked at her then sighed, twirling Delenn's hair around his index finger. "We have out moments," he admitted. "Michael's still very angry about what happened. Blames himself even though we all know there was nothing he could have done. He's a little overprotective of me now, trying to make up for it."

Susan nodded, knowing that was probably a huge understatement. All this time wallowing when her friends needed her. ‘Such a waste,' she thought bitterly.

"Don't," John warned.

Startled, she looked at him and asked, "Don't?"

"Don't even start down that guilty path, Ivanova. We've all made our share of bad choices in the recent past and we're all allowed. We're only human."

Susan glanced at the sleeping woman in John's arms and smiled wistfully. "Drilled that into your head, did she?"

Laughing softly, John nodded. "Care to see the dents?"

"I'll take your word for it."

"Then also take my advice. Start from here out. We can't change the past. We can only move forward and do our best to do better in the future," John said quietly. "It's the cliché of the ages, but it's still holds true."

She knew he was right. Clichés only became cliché because they were true enough to be told too often. Even knowing he was right didn't stop the guilt from wandering through her. Shrugging, Susan said, "I'll try."

John nodded. "Steven will be here in the morning. He'll take the baby and meet Jacob with her. Helen will have to do what she can on her own. I probably shouldn't know this but Garibaldi's arranged for a little accident, of the non-lethal variety much to his disappointment, to the two agents on duty when the ship docks in Earth. The way should be free and clear for both mother and child."

"I still want to go with them," Susan muttered, rolling tired neck muscles.

"I know. I do too, believe it or not. She seems like a nice woman and I wouldn't condemn my worst enemy to Bester's keeping," John said darkly.

"There are rumors on earth that you've got a telepath colony growing here," Susan said curiously.

Groaning, John's head dipped back to rest on the sofa cushion. "Not my favorite topic of conversation right now, Susan."

"Consider it dropped."

"Thank you."

They sat in silence for several minutes before Susan stood. "You should get to bed if you want to be decent for tomorrow."

"I'm never decent," John muttered with a grin.

"Yes you are, always decent," Delenn murmured sleepily.

"So much for the Sleeping Beauty act," John teased.

"I was meditating," Delenn replied with a dignified yawn.

"I so love that cute little snore when you meditate."

Hastily, seeing the faintly murderous look entering Delenn's eyes, Susan asked, "Where am I bunking down?"

"Your old quarters are somehow still available," John informed her with a smile.

"Thank you both. For everything," Susan said sincerely.

John and Delenn stood as well and stepped forward to hug her individually. Gruffly, John finished off the night's conversation with, "Just don't make this smuggling thing a career."

* * * *

Steven had been on Babylon5 for only a half hour before needing to turn around with the baby. He'd read her the riot act almost as inventively as John had but without the unintentional guilt trip. Helen had been placed on the next available flight to Earth after that. It was close to the time that they should know whether or not things had gone as planned and until then, she was waiting on tender-hooks.

"Want some company?"

She looked over at John and nodded silently before looking back out the view-port.

"We have a new ship docking in about five hours that I think you'll be interested in knowing about," John said.

Susan could feel the weight of his stare but didn't give in to the urge to look at him. She knew what this was about.

"Your personal errand is finished, Captain."

At that, Susan did look at him. Straightening, she agreed neutrally, "It is."

"Do you feel up to command?"

That was the question, of course. That's what this entire disaster had been about. Getting back on the horse, so to speak. Before she could say anything, John's communicator beeped.

"Sheridan. Go."

"John."

"Delenn? What is it?"

"I just wanted to let you and Susan know that both packages arrived safe and sound."

Susan breathed a long, slow sigh of relief.

"Thank you, Delenn."

"My pleasure."

"So?" John looked at her again.

Several things ran through her mind almost simultaneously at John's question. First, that she was always going to miss Marcus. The pain would probably be this fresh fifty years from now when she was old and gray. She couldn't not live life simply because Marcus wasn't in it. Everyone had to move on, even when they didn't want to. Second, that she desperately wanted this command. As much as her heart scorned her for the desire, Susan had always wanted her own command. Babylon5 had been the preparation for it. Her entire life had been leading up to it. Third, if she turned down the command, Susan would be betraying herself and that was something Marcus would never stand for.

Facing John with an almost clear heart, Susan replied, "Captain Susan Ivanova, reporting for duty, Sir."

end