The Paths Not Taken

Secrets of the Soul part 6 (missing scene continued - end of episode, and flashbacks)

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//Private Thoughts or mental argument - when one person is trying to decide something.//
*//Thoughts broadcast to/from (another) telepath//*
"Words which have been translated for the reader into English."
~Emphasis marks~
~~~~ scene change - small (or POV change)
******** scene change - large (or POV change)

(Author's note: Didn't any of you wonder why Lyta's character seemed to disappear right after the Shadow War for a while? I sure did . . . PG 13, some violence, no slush)

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Lyta pushed her empty plate away to rest her arms on the table, and began to confess to Zack what had really happened . . .

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She could vaguely recall what had happened to her just after Coriana 6, when they'd limped back to the station. The entire place was one huge party. She'd returned to her empty room, but wasn't able to face it, wasn't able to face being abandoned by her protectors, by her masters. It didn't matter at that point what Ulkesh had done to her, she had betrayed the Vorlons. Because Sheridan told her to do it. And they had abandoned her, they had abandoned all of their servants to leave hand-in-hand with their hated enemies and rivals of millions of years, the Shadows. They'd left, all the first ones had just LEFT.

But they'd forgotten their servants. They'd left their secrets, their traps, their mistakes, their half-completed plans, their legacies of loyalty and programming and terror behind them. They were now in the void between galaxies, while Lyta was on Babylon 5 still, staring around at her empty quarters, trying to comprehend what could not be. Why?

She'd gone to medlab. She'd gotten, then filled, a prescription for strong sedatives. The doctor had started on a hasty explanation of how she was only to take one every night, because of their potency, when another emergency had come in and she was left with 'oh, you know all this, I have to go'.

The contents of one bottle, if taken all at once, would kill a human twice her mass. In the noisy tumult of a very busy medlab, she wasn't noticed as she took an extra bottle and placed it in her pocket. She knew there had been changes to her physiology, and she wanted to ensure she wouldn't have to deal with the loss.

She had kept moving, somewhat aimlessly, until she found a place in downbelow, under grey sector and about as deserted as any place on the station. Security very rarely came through here, as it was far from water, fresh air, and any exit to upabove. She figured her body would be able to decompose for a couple of days at least, before anyone found her. Hopefully (not that she had any hope left whatsoever at that point) a Pak'Ma'Ra would find her first, dispose of the remains completely. Don't burden the others with it. She opened both bottles and swallowed the contents, a handful at a time, until they were both empty, then flung the containers as far from her as she could.

And the world grew a little fuzzier in the dim light, and her blocks failed from the drugs, and her last memories were of hearing the cold alien thoughts of pure hatred towards anything remotely vorlon and the faint vibration of the deckplates where she had collapsed as an unknown number of assorted non-humans approached, and through the security of the growing darkness that shrouded her tighter and tighter came the bright flash of light reflecting off a sharpened blade.

Zack stared at her in horror as she finished. Lyta simply kept her eyes lowered, gazing somewhere near his plate, half-filled with his second helping which had been forgotten to grow cold as she told him how she'd gotten to where she had been found. Then it was his turn to complete the tale.

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As she had said, the entire station was one huge party. Everyone played music, everyone was dancing, and pride, joy, relief were paramount.

No one was really working if they could avoid it. Security couldn't, and they were busy. Large happy crowds had a tendency towards rioting. No one watched their credit chits, and the pickpockets were having their own little celebrations, mostly ending in lock-up. But surprisingly, there was little violence, perhaps because everyone had had enough to last them a very long time . . . Almost everyone.

Garibaldi had them spending most of their time taking accident victims to medical facilities: ones who'd had too much to drink and had passed out, sometimes falling down stairs in the process, people who'd not watched what food they were putting in their mouth and needed to detox, fast. And one case where a Starfury pilot, overly grateful, had made 'advances' on a female ranger. Despite being minbari, her training had covered how to turn down slightly tipsy males. However, her husband was not a ranger. He was a member of the warrior caste, and he had earned some rank aboard his cruiser. He also had a bad temper at times. The pilot had both arms broken before the ranger could order her husband to stop. The pilot didn't fly for almost a week, while the ranger threatened divorce.

Zack wondered what had happened to the warrior, who hadn't returned to B5 since his rather meek departure.

In other words, it had been basically calm all around, until a group of aliens, mostly Drazi, had swaggered drunk onto the main section of the Zocalo, splattered in brownish-red, from specks to large dripping stains, that security ~should~ ~have~ identified immediately. The group's leader climbed onto the nearest table and loudly announced that they, alone, had the courage and strength to remove the last vestiges of first one occupation from the galaxy.

Zack had been one of the team to start escorting them off before they could start a fight, when he saw what the leader held in his hand. He'd ripped off a piece of her scalp, a handful of long red-gold strands still attached to a bleeding chunk of skin. That's when the team first realised the brown stains the group was splattered in was still-drying human blood.

"Why do you not rejoice, human? I have set free the slave of your kind whom the Vorlons had taken!"

It took two additional security teams to get the group into cells, but getting some of the story of what they'd done wasn't nearly as hard, since they continued to brag about it loudly, describing each slice, until a furious Garibaldi had them gagged and restrained.

They found what remained of her body right where the group said it was left.

Zack had to stop, cover his face, at the memory. Lyta reached across the table to grasp his hand. "I'm all right. It took a long time to heal my heart, but the physical only took a couple of weeks, I'm all right now."

Zack nodded, blinking several times. "When you deal with energy weapons most of the time, or straight beatings, you tend to forget just how much blood a person has in them . . . how much can get on the decks, the walls, the ceiling pipes. You forget, or at least block away, the memories of how many guts are tucked up in someone, until you see them spilled. They . . . the doctors told me . . . they knew there were sedatives in your system. One of the Drazi had picked up an empty bottle and put it in his pocket. He said he didn't know it was yours - we thought they'd forced the pills into you to keep you from defending yourself. Premeditated. But you didn't press the greater charge, just attempted murder. You said you didn't remember how they got you there. I guess it was a good thing you were found and mauled, it kept the pills from killing you. Took them out of your stomach before too much absorption, or something." Zack swore a few times, looking away, as she held his hand.

//Now ~he's~ the one not here!// Lyta thought, moving beside him, holding both of his hands with one of hers, waving the other in front of his distant eyes, until he startled back, grasping onto her fingers. "Hi."

"Hi." He looked down at their hands.

She pulled her hands out from his, and held his head with them, making him face her. "I'm fine now. I can remember learning you'd been watching the surgeries, waiting for me, you, you helped hold me up as I learned to walk again, move again. It took a long time, but I'm back now, and if I don't help you clean up we'll be greeting Entil'Zha with a mess."

"Ent . . . oh, you mean Delenn."

"Well that is her official title, you know. Unless you count 'first lady'." She picked up the plates and went to clean them.

Zack blinked at her sarcastic tone. "You don't like having Sheridan as the President? They'll be an election in a few years anyway, but even so I really doubt anyone else will want to run. Heck of a job, more refereeing than real power."

"Well, I certainly don't want the job, but - this is never to be repeated, ever - Delenn seems to have lousy tastes in husbands, at least that's how it seems to me."

"Any reason in particular?"

"He actually believes he came back from the dead, for one. He never even says 'boo' to me, despite saving his skin more than a few times, not even if I say hello first. He won't even look at me! I know he's busy and all, but . . ."

"I don't think it's personal, since . . . well, maybe he just isn't noticing you. He's likely getting some severe sleep deprivation, especially since this year started."

"Running the Alliance? But Delenn seems to be ensuring he gets out of his office every night and to - Oh!" She winced at herself, suddenly understanding Zack's sly smile, and started to laugh. "Yeah, a Minbari's stamina might be hard to keep up with . . . didn't really think of THAT part . . . oops."

"He ~does~ tend to wear a cheerful, if tired, smile most mornings these days. At least until he has to deal with the Alliance."

The door bleeped at them. "Speak of the devil, that may be her now." Lyta quickly put the last things away. "Come!"

If Delenn had been surprised to be called by Chief Allan to Lyta Alexander's quarter's late in the evening, her face didn't show it in her tired smile. "You wished to talk with me?"

Lyta started to speak, realised she had no idea how to ask for this favor, glancing at Zack anxiously.

He showed them to chairs, waiting for the other two to be seated before beginning. "Ambassador, we have a request. A very important one, but personal and it must be kept as silent as possible. It's considerably harder than the last time - about 7, no 8 months back, when a young girl named Rachel was involved, but it is the same situation."

Delenn blinked, remembering the incident quoted, when an 8-year old human girl had her flickers of latent telepathy suddenly flare to life. She was now safely in Tuzanor, getting training in her abilities, playing with her also-moved family, and doing schoolwork. Delenn had a hunch was the request was for. "How many children in the Telepath's sanctuary need to be moved before Bester returns?"

Lyta looked surprised. "You're either a really good guesser or else there's rangers watching who can do a much better job of hiding than the security guards can."

"Bit of both, actually." Delenn smiled a little brighter. Why so many humans had such an aversion to telepaths, she didn't know, but there had been enough incidents where Psi Corps reps had insulted the minbari ambassador, and if helping a few children who would rather go to Minbar than join the Psi Corps annoyed them back, so much the better. Helping these rogues, while not being able to do much 'officially', would be an honorable coup to the Corps pride, whether or not Bester discovered it in this lifetime. "How many children, of what ages?"

Lyta shifted nervously, leaning forward towards Delenn a little. "None of the surviving ones are more than 6 years old. Most are latent still, although any day now Tyler might begin to broadcast to normals - he's almost P12 already, a normal could 'hear' him if skin contact was made. He'd be the hardest, by far. Some are less than a year old, the youngest is 2 months now. Plus I know of 4 late-term pregnancies."

"Lyta . . . how ~many~." Delenn pressed.

She looked at the floor, not quite willing to answer. "If all the ones already born are allowed to be moved . . . um . . . almost thirty."

Delenn's expression fell, the realization of the task sinking in.

"But, not all can be moved, I know Thomas would never allow his daughter to leave him, and some of the other telepaths are xenophobic, they won't agree to it, but please, please, please say you'll try to help at least some of them!" She pleaded.

"Byron doesn't know you're asking this yet, does he." Delenn said slowly.

"I've been sortof distracted the past few days . . . the . . . my 'talent' has expanded. I didn't intend it, but in a moment of fear I knocked Zack out. Telepathically. For several hours. I thought I'd killed him."

If Delenn had eyebrows, she'd have pushed them right up to her hairline. "Al si oriao'mal vill ui ai alluwi Valeria tor?" She quietly asked Lyta.

Lyta shook her head. "No. I've passed the limit of what they seem to know. I'm on my own for the rest of the journey." She placed her head in her palms and drew a ragged breath.

"Am I allowed to ask what you two are talking about?" Zack queried.

"I'd rather you didn't, not yet, anyway . . . maybe later." //Much, much later,// Lyta thought.

Zack nodded slightly. "Ambassador, I know how important this is to Lyta, but I know it will be a heck of a challenge, despite - we hope - the Corps not knowing they even exist. They are too young to defend themselves, it's up to us to try."

"What if they are found, what then? Despite many rumors to the contrary, your Psi Corps does seem to raise children well, as most problems occur with adults who were not raised by them. Minbar will get in a large political mess if news of these, or the ones previous, are made public, to say nothing of how this would affect the alliance."

"Delenn . . ." Lyta, started slowly, not wanting to argue, not wanting to torment, "are you willing to have a memory shown to you? An example of what the children's view of the Corps is. It was sent to me by one of the younger boys . . . when he saw me, he remembered what a group of Psi Cops did to his mother, when she was caught some months ago, on Mars." She offered her hand out.

Zack hadn't seen what Delenn was about to, but he guessed it had something to do with the baby who'd literally attached himself to Lyta.

Minbari skin touched human, and after a few seconds a horrified strangle emerged from Delenn, her face showing only shock and terror, tears suddenly streaming down until Lyta withdrew.

Delenn opened and closed her mouth several times soundlessly, shaking her head. Lyta just stared at the floor, unhappy.

After several minutes, Delenn was able to speak again in a hoarse whisper. "I will help. We will help every one we can, and their parents." Her green gaze focused on Zack with sharp intensity. "The rangers WILL help. Speak with Byron, the other telepaths, tell them safe passage will be given those who can leave, if they choose to. They have the word of Entil'Zha on this."

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