Touched: A Confession of Telepaths

Disclaimer: BABYLON 5, Ivanova, Talia, and all characters and situations thereof, are all rights and © J. Michael Straczynski and Babylonian Productions. The E.A.S. Rasputin, Shiraka, and such story details which refer to the alternative B5 universe created by Sel Vecantie, are all rights and © Sel Vecantie. Everything else that's left, is original by me--and yes, I'm responsible for coming up with the Dumarii (embarassed laff!). This is a not-for-profit effort for the purposes of fan-to-fan appreciation of some wonderful characters. Thank you, and enjoy!

Further notes: This is a post B5 fifth season story. This is not hardware sci-fi, it's more romance fan fiction, depicting a love relationship between two women. If this sensibility disturbs/does not interest you, please read no further. No explicit sex, but some violence. I've not read the official B5 novels with telepath storylines, so my portrayal of telepathic abilities are personal and not canon. To find out how Ivanova gets Talia back, read Sel Vecantie's 'Reunion', (and other great I/T stories!), at: www.geocities.com/Athens/Troy/9933/index2.html

Beta-read by Calliope2000, who has my most sincere, heartfelt thanks!

Enjoy!


 

"It'll take me two hours to get back to the Rasputin. The debriefing might take two more. I'll be back planetside by the evening," the woman in the Earthforce dress uniform explained. Her blue eyes gazed intently at her companion, a cool mannered, beautifully featured woman, with shining, straight blonde hair swept behind one ear.

"You'll be all right?" Ivanova asked.

"Of course," her blonde companion warmly replied, in a voice naturally low and husky.

"You have Dumarii money?" Ivanova prompted.

Her companion's smoky blue eyes widened in surprise, as she tilted her head in Ivanova's direction.

*You are such the Jewish mother, Susan*, the telepath sent Ivanova.

Susan Ivanova, Captain of the Warlock class cruiser, the E.A.S. Rasputin, chuckled out loud, her wide mouth breaking into a grin. Mirth erased the aggressive regard of her dark brown brows and softened the attractive lines of her face. As suddenly as she had laughed, she darted sharp eyes to the side of her, eyebrows darkly knit once again.

"Eyes front while you still have them, ensign!" She barked.

The young boyish ensign who had been surreptitiously regarding the Captain and her companion in the reflection of the front view window, snapped his head to the front of the vehicle, now focused entirely on the weaving traffic of the Dumarii citizens before him.

"Y-yes Sir!" He yelped, and if the Captain heard the funny, embarrassingly high-pitched break in his voice which she had frightened out of the young man, she took no notice, her attention entirely resting on her companion once again.

And who would not spend their time stealing glances at the telepath? Talia Winters was a beautiful--no, Susan corrected herself--the most beautiful woman between Earth and the known worlds on the edge of The Rim. Some found the blonde woman's quiet, polite demeanor, distancing, and perhaps too cool--a possible defense mechanism for a woman whose face and curvaceous form always turned heads when she entered a room. Susan knew, however, that beneath the professional, reserved exterior was the gentle spirit and heart of a lovingly warm, giving woman; one whose positive regard for the obstacles they inevitably came across, easily balanced out the highly pessimistic Russian personality of the Captain.

*I think he was looking at you, Susan*, Talia sent, mirth evident in her telepathic voice.

Susan scowled darkly.

"Then I'll just not give his eyes back," she stated aloud, causing the ensign, who obviously overheard with now beet red ears, to cringe a little in the driver's seat.

The young man could not have 'heard' Talia's remark of course, but he could guess that the Captain was holding a conversation with the telepath. It was suspected by many of the crew, and known only definitely to a few, that the Captain and the Psi-Corps military liaison assigned to the Rasputin were involved with each other. Only a very few knew that Susan Ivanova and Talia Winters had been involved with each other long before Susan became the youngest Captain of one of the most advanced warships in Earthforce; before she became a media war hero adored by Earth's news network ISN; before the Earth civil war saw her rise as the Voice of the Resistance, and before the Shadow War made Ivanova a Soldier of the Light. Once upon a time, before conspiracies and intrigues came to full light, Susan was Commander of the space station Babylon 5 and Talia Winters was its licensed, commercial telepath in residence. And despite the ever present conflicts of station life and their own, internal battles, they had once, finally admitted that they loved each other.

Susan softly squeezed Talia's black, leather gloved hands, gazing into sympathetic, warm, blue eyes. In the car's dim light, the bronze Psi-Corps emblem glinted at Talia's dress collar. To think that once upon a time, a certain station Commander had hated the sight of a certain resident telepath, only because she represented the organization that drove Susan's telepathic mother to suicide; Psi-Corps. An organization meant to isolate, control, and train Earth's telepaths, only to eventually reveal in the intrigues that plagued Babylon 5's existence, more sinister, frightening political agendas. One such agenda nearly destroyed her Talia, taking the woman she had only briefly admitted to loving, from Susan for two and a half years...

The car stopped.

The two women turned to regard the city park the ensign had neatly place the vehicle next to. The young man quickly vacated the driver's seat to courteously pop open the exit panel on Talia's side. The warm scented air of the city's moist climate rushed into the car, exciting the telepath's senses. Susan however, kept a hold of Talia's hands, eyeing the jungle-like trees over the park enclosure with suspicion.

"Susan," Talia reproached in her low voice, recapturing the Captain's attention. "Selna is one of the most sedate cities on one of the most uneventful colony planets of the Dumarii system. Crime barely exists here. You said it yourself, this place is so boring two Dumarii having a fight would fall asleep before they could finish it."

Susan snorted. She had made that astute remark after discovering how incredibly dull the Dumarii's strict, conservative culture was. Worse, they followed a faith that didn't indulge in alcohol consumption. The Captain's opinion of their luxury hotel accommodations dropped decidedly when she learned that vodka, much less the weakest Centauri wine, was not available from the hotel bar.

"You're not Dumarii," Susan stated, stubbornly holding the telepath's hands.

Talia leaned in and brushed her full lips on Susan's mouth.

Susan smiled at the brief, sweet contact. The telepath raised her eyebrows expectantly.

"All right," she gruffly allowed. *But I want more than just a little kiss*, she sent the telepath.

Talia managed to disengage a slender gloved hand to pass a finger over Susan's lips.

"Lipstick," she murmured, rubbing away the bright, red shade.

*I don't care if you get it all over my face and the uniform or if the Admiral notices it's not my color, come here!* Susan demanded telepathically, and placing a hand behind Talia's head, pulled the blonde woman close, her mouth possessing Talia's.

Standing at attention outside the vehicle door, the ensign wisely kept his gaze straight ahead, reminding himself that he'd like to keep his eyeballs.

The two women finally broke off the kiss, each a little breathless. The telepath took the moment to pass a loving hand over the gray wool of the Captain's dress tunic, caressing the metal Earthforce insignia and the gold command statbar on Susan's breast; straightening the service ribbons. She reluctantly pulled away and stepped out of the car. The Captain scooted forward and placed a boot outside the door.

"Let me rephrase that," she stated. "Do you have enough Dumarii money?"

That elicited a soft, incredulous laugh from the telepath, the white sunlight glinting off her gold hair as she shook her head ruefully at Susan's persistence.

"Susan, the Admiral's waiting," Talia reminded gently. She also tapped her lip, her usual signal to remind the Captain to wipe the telepath's lipstick from her mouth.

Ivanova let out an exasperated sigh and put her foot back in the car. The ensign shut the exit panel smartly and sprinted around to reboard the driver's seat. The view port on the passenger side slid down to reveal the Captain again.

"Be careful," she cautioned. "Don't talk to strangers!"

Talia rolled her eyes.

"Yes mommie," she teased in her deep, husky voice.

Susan sat back in the car.

"Go!" She curtly ordered.

The sleek Dumarii vehicle pulled smoothly away to weave back into the serenely humming traffic, its shiny shell becoming indistinct among the other private vessels. Talia closed her eyes, hands clasped behind her, reveling in the sensation of Susan's mental touch still present in her mind. As long as the Captain was able, she would continue her contact with Talia, even beyond line of sight. Talia loved it when Susan utilized her power in this way. The Captain's latent telepathic ability had manifested only recently, startling in its range and power. For Ivanova, long hateful and frightened of the Corps and the fate her mother had met, the extraordinary gift was nothing but a horrible curse...except in such moments as these, when Susan could show her love for Talia.

The telepath felt the touch of Susan's mental contact slip from her mind to finally disappear, the last impression of Ivanova's warmth still reverberating within her. Talia opened her eyes, once again in the midst of the busy Dumarii city. She's getting so much stronger at this, Talia reflected, awed at how long Susan had managed to sustain contact, and personally proud as well. She hoped that whatever orders the Admiral was about to visit upon Susan, would not be as bad as the speculations the doom and gloom Captain loved to indulge in.

"Another investigation into Vorlon space maybe, or a trip to a supposedly dead Shadow world, or better yet, an expeditionary look-see at The Rim," Susan had sarcastically conjectured this morning, while buckling on the gray dress pants. Her steward on the Rasputin had the foresight to send along the ceremonial Earthforce uniform along with the ensign assigned to pick her up.

The unexpected arrival of the Admiral, at the command of Susan's ship, from Io, had meant regrettably cutting short Ivanova's time planetside today, but Talia was reassured that even if the Rasputin had to ship off tonight, they still had this evening to spend in this peaceful city together.

Talia felt a warm breeze touch her back, bringing the rich, sensual scent of flowers. Turning from the city's activity, she entered the quiet enclosure of the park, expectant and curious.

 

* * *

 

Ivanova sat rigid in her seat, eyes closed and brow frowning in concentration. To her surprise, she was successfully blocking out the multitude of 'voices' that existed between her and Talia and maintaining her 'touch' with her lover. It was very difficult to continue a long range scan like this, especially without line of sight, but the thought of the beautiful telepath was enough to keep the Captain intensely focused and determined. Finally she broke contact, raising her mental shields immediately against the barrage of what felt like a million outside thoughts. She brought a hand up to rub her aching temple, finding that she'd been sweating from the effort.

"E.T.A., ensign?" She asked.

"Fifteen minutes to the shuttle access terminal, sir," the ensign replied promptly, his eyes fixed ahead. He licked his lips nervously, noting that now that the Captain was no longer meditating, or whatever it was she was doing, it was an opportune time to say something.

"Ma'am," he ventured courageously. "Would you like a mirror?"

He immediately struck a switch on the console, causing half of his view window to become an opaque reflective surface; a unique privacy feature of the Dumarii vehicle.

Neat trick, Susan marveled to herself, then noticed her reflection.

Muttering a mild Russian oath, Susan fished for one of the small handkerchiefs Talia always managed to slip into her pockets. She rubbed the soft white cloth around her mouth.

"Thank you ensign," she replied crisply.

The young man nodded, switching the view window back to full display. He was enormously relieved that his call on the 'lipstick' situation had been the right one.

Before Susan stuffed the cloth back into her pocket, she noticed the small, elegant 'W', stitched into the corner....

"Ms. Winters," Susan would say.

"Commander," would come Talia's low toned reply.

It took me nearly two years to admit I liked you more than as a friend, Susan remembered, deep in memory as she carefully folded the crumpled cloth. Just a month less that time to stop regarding you as the enemy. The one who wore that damn Psi-Corps badge and black, psi-dampening gloves. The one who could turn me in. You were--are, such a patient woman, Ms. Winters.

"You sew?" Susan had remarked in surprise, admiring the careful stitching along a handkerchief the telepath had been working on.

"Of course," Talia had smoothly replied. "It's a nice, meditative hobby. Don't you have any hobbies, Commander?"

"Sure. Drinking vodka and beating up ambassadors," Susan had quipped.

They had had two months together on Babylon 5, where their relationship had moved beyond friendship to an intimacy so profound, it seemed an inviolate connection had somehow, inexplicably been forged between the two women. Talia had explained that perhaps it was because Susan was telepathic as well, though latent, that such a strong bond of love could be made, but Susan felt that it really had to be more than that. She had never known such happiness.

Then it had to happen, in a manner so cruel, the memory of it still sent a sick blow to Ivanova's gut long after the event's passage. It had been the dismally ironic Russian end to their relationship that even Ivanova could not have foreseen coming.

Lyta Alexander, former commercial telepath gone rogue from Psi-Corps, returned to Babylon 5 armed with a password meant to activate an artificially created Psi-Corps personality planted in the mind of an unsuspecting subject; a subject placed to unwittingly spy on the station's command staff. With Captain Sheridan's permission, Lyta had telepathically sent the password into every possible suspect, hoping to uncover the spy. To Susan's deep horror, the password had worked on Talia. She had watched in numbed shock as Talia's identity and self awareness died in her own mind, destroyed by the ascent of the Corps-created persona.

"The Corps is Mother, the Corps is Father!" The artificial personality had proclaimed triumphantly from the mouth of the woman Susan once knew. Her Talia had died that day, and with her, Susan's hope of ever experiencing that intimate connection to her heart and soul ever again. As much as she eventually grew to love Marcus Cole after the loss of Talia, he was never given the opportunity to touch her heart deeply. Talia Winters was the only one.

And now I have you back, Susan reflected in bittersweetness. I thought the fates were being their usual sadistic selves assigning that cold creature in your body to the Rasputin. The joke got worse when what I feared most about myself finally came true. I was plagued by fears of Psi-Corps coming after me; fears of you. What I thought was my curse then became the means to our salvation...

And now you're back.

Susan blinked back the tears that came to her eyes.

Thank you.

 

* * *

 

Talia stood in the shade of a group of trees and gazed in admiration and wonder at the thin, silver marvel that arched gracefully for what seemed an impossibly long distance across the width of the sparkling lake. From the Dumarii, its name translated as 'the Light Bridge', an engineering feat that suspended the shimmering path above the waters as if without gravity--any support structure or suspension was entirely unseen, leaving the thin bridge to appear as an unobtrusive, gentle curve gracing the air above the lake. Tiny figures of Dumarii citizens clothed in their usual muted hues, distinctly elaborate hats, and their eager children negotiated the narrow bridge, and Talia thought she could even spot the bone crests of members of the Minbari race, smoothly walking the arcing path.

The young woman studied the bridge's length; yes, the absolute peak of the bridge was the ideal, physical distance for a telepath to achieve isolation. If ever one could, Talia added dryly to herself as she watched the traffic on the bridge. She turned away, deciding to seek another location.

The Dumarii people were bald, humanoid in built, and generally diminutive of height. The average height was about five feet, a fact Susan soon discovered when she had to squeeze her five foot ten inch frame into the courtesy vehicle that would take them to their hotel.

"I'm sitting in a damn clown car!" The Captain had exclaimed.

Talia stood only two inches less than Ivanova, but she was slimmer of frame and had seemed to negotiate the smaller entrances, furniture, and other such everyday 'hazards' better than the unfortunate Captain. Then of course there were the Dumarii themselves, who, though Talia found them a kind and courteous people, followed rules of protocol and propriety that lent them a predictable correctness Susan found infuriating.

*It's like I'm talking to four stuffed chairs*, Susan had sent her once, while they were surviving a Dumarii public function held for the Earthforce Captain.

*I know they lack spontaneity--* Talia had sent back.

*One of them should spontaneously combust! That would give them something interesting to talk about!* the irritated Captain had sent back, and then, clutching her woefully non-alcoholic drink, returned what was left of her good graces and a poorly fixed smile to the four, pleasantly droning Dumarii citizens before her.

Poor Susan, Talia reflected in humor. She stepped among some large leafed bushes with their equally large and beautifully hanging flowers, and approached the elderly gardener working among them. She smiled at him. In a bit of surprise, the old Dumarii stood up from his work and smiled back.

Yes, the Dumarii were a conservative culture, and adhering to certain social and religious proprieties made them a reserved people as a whole. Talia had discovered however, that, perhaps because she and Susan were aliens, the Dumarii were willing to express themselves more openly to the human visitors. In this polite culture, Talia could drop her own reserved exterior and afford to smile openly, receiving a genuine response in return. It was gratifying.

She spoke a while with the gardener in his language. Her ability to speak Dumarii was halty at times. She read it better, and actually utilized their news and information archives to fill in the two and a half years lost to her personal memory when the artificial personality had held dominance over her mind and body. Earth's ISN had been full of censor and propaganda under President Clark's rule and had no acknowledgment of the Shadow War. The Dumarii, however, were a minor member of the League Of Non-Aligned Worlds, and witnessed the war firsthand. To them, Susan Ivanova was already a legend.

* * *

 

"Captain Ivanova-Susan," the small Dumarii female said, her smile reaching her blue orbed eyes as she handed Ivanova her tiny baby, wrapped in a stylish cocoon. "My husband's ship was at the Last Battle of the First Ones. We thank you for your victory."

Ivanova smiled, and holding the child carefully, kissed it, as was acceptable in Dumarii culture.

"Thank you," she expressed in return.

A second Dumarii female took their holo.

After handing the child back to its mother, Ivanova beat a hasty retreat to her transport and got in. Their vehicle had been at standstill for over ten minutes on this road segment. The impatient Captain had then decided to get out and find out what was going on, which of course had been a mistake. Before she had returned to the car, she had kissed two babies and hugged five children for their proud parents.

The Dumarii were a very proper people, and actually frowned on the indulgences of fame culture. Therefore, their respects to Ivanova had been appreciatively low-key. When EarthGov had sent the Captain to the Dumarii homeworld as some sort of political goodwill guest during trade talks, just because her name seemed to be a positive reference for the Dumarii, Ivanova had dreaded the possibility of elaborate fanfare and media coverage and such, and it had been anything but. She had to finally rationalize that going to boring, properly ceremonial, social functions with equally boring, droning speeches was worth the embarrassment of having nodded off once or twice in public. It was far better than having media wolves like ISN sticking their recorders in her face and manipulating everything she said for their marketing purposes.

The problem with Dumarii adoration, however, was that they like to give the beings they admired, their babies to kiss--and, Ivanova recalled wryly, her mouth curling at one particular memory, to sic their children on them...

 

Susan regarded in horror as a horde of squealing, tiny bald, Dumarii school children came rushing at her.

"What's going on?" She cried as the children held her hands and grabbed at her pants legs, beaming up at her. "Don't you know not to say hello to strangers, kids??"

The children laughed up at her, not understanding a word she had said, as their proud parents took holos of them with Ivanova.

"Larndessar! Larndessar!" The little ones cried up to Ivanova, reaching up and jumping.

"What are they saying?" Susan turned to ask Talia, as she obligingly knelt to pacify the reaching children.

One found the band that held Susan's hair back in a tight ponytail, and released it.

"Hey!" Susan protested.

Talia's face was a wonderful mixture of surprise, tender humor, and politeness as she tried to accommodate Susan's question.

"I think," Talia replied, lips working as if to find the right words for the image she sensed from the children. " I think they're referring to a beast...."

"A beast?!" The Captain exclaimed, capturing some of the children in her arms as many more became preoccupied with stroking her thick, auburn hair.

"Yes," Talia acknowledged watching the fascinated kids play with Susan's rich, dark locks. "A large, fierce creature of the mountains. I think you have its coloring, Susan."

The Captain laughed. "Well then, 'Larndessar' this! RRRARRRR!!"

The kids scattered, screaming, and surprisingly, didn't run to their parents but to Talia instead, hiding behind her legs from the growling Captain. The telepath let out a laugh of surprise as their little hands tickled the back of her knees.

Susan tossed back her now loose mane of hair and stood up with two of the children in her arms.

"Desnikki! Desnikki!" The kids cried, pulling on Talia's gloved hands and the hem of her dress. Talia knelt and the children immediately boarded her knees and reached up her back and arms for the golden silk of her hair. Talia laughed out loud at the feel of their inquisitive hands, her delighted face relaxed and open as the children thoroughly mussed her gleaming tresses. Susan stood still, her heart aching to see such rare and innocent joy radiating from her lover's face.

 

She had looked so happy, Susan remembered, knowing that the memory would be one firmly etched into her heart until the end of her life. She had finally understood then, why, after she had finished her formal goodwill duties on the Dumarii homeworld, Talia had practically begged Ivanova to stay a few days more at this boring little colony. Among humans, not one person would have let his or her children touch Talia like that. No human child would have been allowed to hug and play with the telepath as these Dumarii children had done, touching her gloved hands and bare face with absolutely no fear of the skin contact and of having their minds read. When Talia's bright eyes had glanced up to meet Susan's, tears were shining in them.

 

* * *

 

The white blossoms drifted slowly down, spiraling in the warm, moist breeze that wafted the flower laden, slender branches of the surrounding trees to and fro. The forest clearing was blanketed in white petals, a soft expanse that stretched around Talia's feet like sweet smelling snow. She stood quietly, hands clasped behind her, and watched the rain of white flowers.

She had not quite understood what the elderly gardener had meant when he described this spot as the place of 'temporary sweet rain', but Talia followed the path he indicated, walking until it thinned and became almost non-existent, the 'voices' long silenced in her mind. Then she came upon the still, silent clearing, and its soft sunlight and falling flowers, and felt a peace enter her heart.

Even a very strong telepath could find refuge here, safely isolated at a physical distance that deterred even the most intrusive outside thoughts from touching them. Talia stood, enjoying the presence of a quiet within and without that was rarely achieved...

Susan would like this, Talia decided.

She turned her head.

When she saw the human form standing beneath the trees she was vaguely surprised.

In that few moments of confusion, half-thoughts flit through Talia's mental processes; wonderment at why she had not sensed the woman's presence; realization that she knew her; recognition of the suddenly palpable fear that reverberated in the air. A frighteningly familiar, intense gaze entered the woman's dark eyes.

When the scan hit, it felt like a cannon blast against the enhanced mental blocks of Talia's mind. She staggered back at the initial blow, then fell to her knees, clutching her head in agony as the scan was attempted again, then again, bombarding her blocks and seeking a way into Talia's consciousness.

"Stop!!" Talia cried raggedly.

Mercifully, the attacks ceased. Talia groaned in deep pain. Oh God, she cried to herself, feeling as if a murderous hammer had been taken to her skull. She struggled to get up but could not. The cool, metal nose of a PPG pressed against the side of her head.

"Lyta?" Talia whispered shakily.

 

* * *

 

Susan snapped down the copy of Universe Today that she had been perusing. Something awful--what was it?...it was gone. A feeling--a feeling not unlike that horrible flash of realization that she had been shot down in battle had occurred to her, she was sure of it. Yet why??

Ivanova's sharp eyes darted suspiciously about the V.I.P. lounge in the shuttle terminal. She was alone except for two Dumarii business people, one rehearsing a speech while the other snoozed delicately.

Dammit, she wanted to 'connect' with Talia now, but she was too far out of range. And wouldn't you know it, this would be the day her lover would pick to go gallivanting in some vast unknown park by herself, leaving the Captain no way to contact her. The newspaper crumpled in her fists, as her fierce blue eyes darted frantically about the lounge again. She stood up.

All right, she thought firmly to herself. She'll hate me for this, but I have to know. I'll just explain to the Admiral--

The ensign passed quickly through the access gate and ran up, his young face relieved and excited. He saluted smartly.

"Sir! Your flight's finally ready! If you'll follow me, sir!"

The young man froze a moment, gulping. He had no idea why the Captain was staring at him like as if she wanted to rip his lungs out.

"Sir....the Admiral?" He ventured a bit shakily.

After a long, uncomfortable moment, Ivanova nodded brusquely.

The ensign turned in relief to lead his Captain from the lounge. Ivanova followed, grinding her teeth.

If there was anything--anything, to the feeling that I thought had occurred to me, she growled to herself, hating every step she took. I will personally rip out the lungs of whoever's responsible.

 

* * *

 

"Lyta?" Talia hoarsely tried again.

"Who are you," came the slow, deeply menacing words. Lyta was out of Talia's line of sight, standing nearly behind the blonde woman's kneeling form, but she could feel the cold fury emanating from the other woman.

Talia licked her lips, unsteady hands slowly leaving her head to be held out in a gesture of surrender.

"Lyta, it's me," Talia said carefully, trying to still the shaking in her voice. "The artificial personality was destroyed. I'm the Talia you know from when we trained in the Corps."

The rogue telepath said nothing.

She doesn't believe me, Talia realized desperately.

"Why are you here," Lyta demanded, her voice cold and hard as the PPG in her clenched hand shoved against the side of Talia's head in emphasis.

"Why?" Talia answered in surprise. "I--I'm waiting for Susan," she finished dumbly. It sounded so stupid for some reason, yet was true.

"Susan?" Lyta said incredulously. "Ivanova??"

Then Talia felt the woman's frustration. The rogue telepath had had enough. She felt Lyta move behind her, the PPG now pressed against the back of her head, the trigger audibly being squeezed.

"Oh God, Lyta, no!! Please!" Talia cried out in alarm, the gloved hands she held out clenching convulsively as she clamped down on the other power within her that had instinctively risen to defend her from her former friend. She heard Lyta's sudden intake of breath, knew that she suspected--

"Lyta, please," Talia begged hoarsely. "I'll let down my blocks. Let you deep scan me. Then you'll know the truth."

Talia waited, barely breathing, feeling the moist breeze, the hard nose of the PPG against her head, and the close, angry, body warmth of the woman who was now deciding whether she should let the blonde telepath live, or die. Talia waited, and watched in powerless fascination, the unceasing fall of white flowers in the particle-flecked sunlight.

"Close your eyes," Lyta finally ordered.

Talia nodded, doing as she was told. She knew why Lyta asked this. Without line of sight, it would be harder for her to attack Lyta telepathically. She felt the other telepath move quietly away, the gun finally leaving the back of her head, Lyta's location becoming obscure to the blonde woman's senses. Talia wished she would stop trembling.

Lyta is not a Psi-Cop, Talia told herself, swallowing. When she knows it's me, she will not harm me. Trust Lyta, trust Lyta, trust Lyta....

Talia repeated the mantra over and over, hands out, allowing her mental blocks to fall, one by one. As the last fell away, she felt the other woman's mind enter and slip cautiously in.

Lyta conducted a broad, slow sweep; an initial, sure touch that covered the entire surface of Talia's consciousness. The blonde telepath breathed rapidly. She sought to calm herself, but could not help reacting in surprise to the very power of Lyta's presence; it was stronger than a level P-12 Psi-Cop's, and so frighteningly unlike anything she had felt touch her before. When Jason Ironheart had evolved into a higher form of life, and scanned Talia's mind one last time, it was with love. This was not the Lyta she knew from her youth but the one who had gone rogue, a stranger, and a stranger who had somehow acquired extraordinary power, just as Talia had.

She resisted an instinctive urge to raise her blocks again. As Talia struggled with her fear, she could feel Lyta's presence pause within her mind.

She has to know, Talia shakily decided, willing her body to comply. If I don't do this, one of us will not leave here alive. Without further hesitation, she gave herself up, and Lyta's mind swiftly descended.

In a deep scan, all is revealed; every thought, memory, dream, fantasy. What was intimate, is made known; what was precious, shown, and anything of darkness, of shame, is cast into light's sight. One could deep scan with a gentleness that was unobtrusive and retrieve only that which the subject wished to regain in his or her memories, as commercial telepaths are trained to do for 'normals'--the non-telepathic. Or one could cast one's 'gaze' quickly, coldly, and thoroughly, through the layers of consciousness with complete disregard for the physical pain and anxiety caused, uncovering all and leaving nothing unseen; the precise technique of the Psi-Corps' black uniformed enforcers, the Psi-Cops. Lyta's scan was both.

She flew through the layers of Talia's consciousness, a warm, fleeting, yet powerful presence, so gentle in her sure passage, Talia felt no discomfort, no pain. Yet everywhere Lyta's presence touched within her, all was revealed, and as Lyta scanned, flying farther, deeper, into the most intimate recesses of the blonde telepath's mind, Talia could feel all thought that made her who she was, all the delicate, complex minutiae that made up her self-awareness, become possessed by the telepathic regard of this powerful presence.

Only two other people had ever touched her like this, found that most intimate place within her that Lyta's consciousness now approached; her lovers, Jason, and..... Not even Matt, the husband Psi-Corps had arranged for her to marry for breeding purposes, had been able to touch her this intimately. Talia did not want this contact with Lyta. The instinctive reaction of her other ability rose again and her body began to tremble.

Lyta's consciousness flew up from the depths of Talia's mind like a phoenix in flight, withdrawing in a matter of seconds, the fiery feel of her presence. Talia gasped aloud as she felt the last of Lyta's awareness leave, her stark blue eyes flying open at finding her mind set free. She could not believe how quickly Lyta had withdrawn her touch without hurting her, yet she had. Tears welled up in her eyes and spilled against her will, a belated, byproduct reaction of her body at experiencing the vulnerability and self-exposure that came with having been deep-scanned....

Lyta stepped into her line of sight.

Despite the tears, Talia's wide eyes found Lyta's and held them.

The two telepaths regarded each other in the stillness of the clearing, one kneeling, one standing, only the breeze breathing a soft sound as it passed in gentleness over their silent forms. The woman who now knew all that Talia was, stood before her in the soft sunlight, returning her gaze with intense, dark eyes; a sad, yet wary regard in her attractive, narrow features. Her slim figure was still, yet at the ready, it seemed, for anything that should happen. A breeze blew white blossoms down into the rogue telepath's red hair, stirring the lanky strands about her serious, worlds-experienced eyes.

"Thank you," Lyta finally spoke.

Inherent in the soft words, was a deep, solemn gratitude for far more than what Talia had allowed to happen between them.

Talia found her throat too dry to answer, had she wanted to.

"I had to see if they had done anything more to you," Lyta added quietly. "I found nothing Psi-Corps. Not even in the deepest parts of you. You're clean, Talia."

An exhale of relief escaped Talia's chest, her eyes closing briefly and breaking the intense gaze long held between she and Lyta. She opened them again to the bright sky, a silent thanks on her lips.

Lyta turned, and walked away, across the flower strewn clearing.

"Wait!" Talia called roughly.

She swallowed against the dryness in her throat.

"You're not getting away that easily, Lyta," she added hoarsely.

The red haired woman halted, her back tense as her hands rested by her sides.

Talia pulled herself unsteadily to her feet, standing to her full height.

"I believe....you owe me a drink, Ms. Alexander."

 

* * *

 

*So you're a telekinetic.*

Lyta's telepathic tone was as flat as if she were stating Talia were a blonde.

The table they sat at was on a balcony overlooking the lake. The cafe proprietors recognized Lyta, and politely led her directly to this table set off unobtrusively away from the others, beneath the shade of the topmost branches of the trees edging the elegant structure. Talia raised the glass of juice gratefully to her lips, gloved hand still shaking slightly. She took a long drink.

"Yes," she huskily replied, setting the glass down. "Jason gave me Gifts."

She reflected on her former lover, the man who was once her instructor at the Academy and whom Psi-Corps experimented on to obtain the perfect weapon; a stable telekinetic, a being able to manipulate matter with just a thought. Jason Ironheart escaped Psi-Corps and fled to Babylon 5 to bid Talia good-bye, discovering that the experiments on his body and mind were changing him further, causing him to evolve rapidly. As he attained a higher consciousness, he touched Talia's mind one last time.

*I can block any scan,* Talia continued telepathically. *And when the alt. personality asserted itself, I remained intact, able to flee to a small, secret place within my consciousness, where I remained trapped. And to an extent, I can control matter.*

Lyta let out an incredulous sound as she folded her arms.

"And Ivanova worries about you?" She commented.

Talia dropped her eyes. Even at the mention of the Captain's name, Talia reacted with pleasure, warm feelings rising within her.

"We lost each other once," she replied softly. "It doesn't seem to matter how powerful or gifted we may be. She believes we inevitably all fall victim to the universe."

An expression of weariness and sorrow passed over Lyta's face, to alter, with a sound of exasperation, to one more of stubbornness and resolve.

"Typical Russian," she muttered.

Talia's lips quirked at the comment, but the serious, blue eyes that rose again to regard the red-haired telepath were tinged with a sadness.

"Lyta, what happened to you?" Talia asked softly.

Implied in those words was recognition of more than the passing of events and life circumstances. Lyta felt a sudden lump form in her throat, not so much at the recalled consequences of her own, eventful life, but at the fact that this moment was so reminiscent of another time, another place, when two young women were training hard to reach their P-5 level and become competent enough to serve the Corps as commercial telepaths.

Well, Mother, Father, look at us now, Lyta thought cynically to herself. She shared the thought with Talia.

A soft, sad smile came to Talia's lips. That too, looked so familiar.

"Can we...." Lyta felt uncertain about her next question, but there was such a need within her, for some reason. It had been only a few months since her time with the colony of telepaths that had been violently disbanded on Babylon 5, yet she had craved such contact since then.

"Can we 'share'?" She asked, hesitantly.

Talia immediately removed the black, psi-dampening gloves from her hands, wiping her palms on her skirt.

"Of course," she answered, reaching for Lyta's own, slender bare hands resting on the table.

Both women were long beyond their P-5 level, where skin contact was needed, but Lyta accepted Talia's hands gratefully. She took a deep breath, deciding where to begin. Then she sent the experiences to Talia.

'Sharing' was both scanning and sending, the communication no longer based on 'spoken' language but on imagery, sensations, emotions, and with an adept and powerful telepath like Lyta, the relating of entire experiences, ones that could absorb the telepath 'sharing' the memory right into the event, though Lyta was very careful to not make the experiences so intense for Talia. She took her to the beginning, when Lyta was the first commercial telepath assigned to Babylon 5, and how her scanning the ambassador of the mysterious and powerful race, the Vorlons, changed her life. She showed how she went rogue, and how she met the Ambassador Kosh again. She showed Talia the true Kosh.

The blonde telepath's fingers gripped Lyta's at the experience of the precious, beautiful memory.

Lyta related how she succeeded in going to the Vorlon homeworld, how the Vorlons changed her, augmented her powers, made her their tool and servant and how she had desired wholeheartedly to be their servant, an instrument of the Light. Then came the Shadow War, the revelation of the Vorlons' darker intentions concerning the 'younger races', and their final departure beyond The Rim, leaving Lyta abandoned....alone.

Events moved rapidly from there; the civil war with Earth and President Clark, and Lyta's part in helping Sheridan bring about its end. The arrival of rogue telepaths on Babylon 5, who attempted to form a colony under their charismatic leader, Byron. Lyta's falling in love with Byron, and her final loss of him. She showed Talia how that loss led her to a terrorist vendetta against Psi-Corps for their part in his death, and to her turning her back on Sheridan, to all 'normals', for failing to help Byron, resulting in her banishment from Babylon 5. She showed how she'd then accepted the invitation from the former Narn ambassador, now spiritual seeker, G'Kar, to travel with him in the interest of exploring the universe. Which brought them now to the present.

Ending the sharing, Lyta slowly released Talia's hands.

Talia took a long breath. Her face was wet with tears again, shed when she had experienced Lyta's grief at the lost of her lover, Byron. Even now, Lyta's slender features held some of the devastation of that memory. The red haired telepath seemed to remember herself, however, and searched in her vest pockets for something.

"Here," she murmured, handing Talia a multi-colored, Narn cloth.

"One of G'Kar's," Lyta added, a little embarrassed at its gaudiness. "It's clean."

Talia accepted quietly. She had slipped the last of her handkerchiefs into Susan's pocket this morning.

Lyta gave a humorless chuckle.

"What?" Talia asked huskily, wiping her cheeks.

"The only times I've seen you since Academy, I've tried to kill you, twice," Lyta said, pain and sadness evident in her voice.

"Just make sure you don't the next time, Ms. Alexander," Talia replied lightly.

A shadow crossed Lyta's face, and Talia was unsure if she 'read' this from her, or recalled the shared memory on her own, but Talia saw that moment when John Sheridan had placed a PPG at Lyta's head, ordering her off Babylon 5.

"I'll....get you another drink," Lyta suddenly said, picking up their glasses.

She left the table.

Talia sighed, a bit weary at her experiencing five years of Lyta's life in a matter of minutes. She knew it would be a long while before she could process it all adequately. She turned in her chair to receive more of the comforting sunlight that filtered through the tree branches above their table. As she did so, she spotted a tiny Dumarii child, her colorful hat tipped back on her round head, peeping curiously at her through the slats of her chair. Talia smiled warmly, and the tiny girl immediately hopped from her seat to approach the blonde telepath. Her mother, noticing the child's absence, glanced around her table companion to tsk at her errant daughter.

"It's all right", Talia assured in her low voice, smiling. the mother smiled back at hearing Talia speak Dumarii.

The little girl pointed up at the bright shine of Talia's hair in the sunlight.

"Desnikki," she said in pleasure and awe as her mother came up behind her, orbed eyes pleasant.

"Ah," the mother said, noticing the Psi-Corps pin gleaming at Talia's collar. "Mind walker?"

"Yes," Talia answered with a smile. The mother picked up her daughter to place the child on the blonde telepath's lap. As the girl stroked Talia's hair, her mother took a holopicture.

"We thank you," the mother smiled, and coaxed her child away. As she carried her daughter back to her table, Talia saw that the little girl held a white flower in her tiny hand, one picked from the telepath's hair.

Lyta left the door frame from which she had watched the interaction, her features soft, and returned to the table.

"Golden haired, whiskered, cat-monkey?" She remarked, as she set the cool glasses down.

Talia let out a husky laugh and put her forehead to her palm in embarrassment. Ivanova had howled for days when she finally got Talia to tell her what a 'Desnikki' was.

"Well it's better than being the 'dark thunder beast' of the mountains!" Talia had retorted, getting sick of the captain's teasing.

"Yeah! a beast that eats cat-monkeys! Rrrrrarrr!!" Susan had growled, pouncing on the laughing telepath.

Talia blushed at the memory, knowing full well the Captain meant that double-entendre.

Lyta saw Talia's cheeks redden slightly and knew she was think of Ivanova. It had been a relief to share all that had happened to her with her old Academy mate. She'd talked over some of it with G'Kar, on those long hyperspace flights when they had nothing to do but talk, but it just wasn't the same as 'sharing'; only then did another being really understand what one had gone through, why one did the things one did.

Becoming a lone telepath again had hurt her more than she had realized, leaving her bereft and yearning once more for the 'contact' of another.

Well Lyta, she mused to herself. It probably ain't meant to be. Kosh died, the Vorlons left, and Byron....loved his convictions more. Of course you had to go and make enemies of everyone you used to care about on Babylon 5. And today you almost killed the one person who actually gave enough of a damn to not hurt you back.

Lyta glanced at Talia, whose blue eyes, pale with the reflection of the light, were regarding her quietly, her glass between her bare hands.

I may make an enemy of her yet, she mused sadly to herself, accepting the truth in those words.

"They're a kind race, aren't they," She commented outloud. "G'Kar and I arrived about three days ago. He's attending a symposium of some sort on religious beliefs. Some Minbari are here as well, from the religious caste."

Lyta nodded at the Psi-Corps pin, heavy and metallic at Talia's collar.

"It's nice when that's not feared, isn't it."

Talia only smiled slightly, the one touched by sadness, and said nothing.

"You were always a good Daughter, Talia," Lyta observed quietly.

That made the blonde sit back slightly, a hint of displeasure in her face. She did not like the implication of those words.

"I didn't mean that in a bad way," Lyta added hastily. "I'm not putting you down for continuing to serve them and for wearing the badge and gloves-"

"This is the only way I can stay with Susan," Talia interrupted, her husky voice rough.

"I understand," Lyta replied, a hand held out to placate the blonde woman before her. "Please. After the Vorlons left I even crawled back to Psi-Corps to grant me a license so I could work commercially again. I wore the badge. I put the psi-dampening gloves...back on. No one would give business to an unlicensed rogue otherwise."

She had shared that experience with Talia. Her table companion finally nodded her understanding.

"What I meant, was that you were....so good for the Corps. If it were the positive, nurturing place its propaganda keeps spouting. You were raised by them since the age of five. You believed in them, you believed in Jason. You married Matt when they told you to. You survived the training to become a P-5 level commercial telepath to serve them, and a damn good one, too. Your service record is in Babylon 5's archives. I looked at it. You successfully monitored an impressive amount of business transactions and diplomatic meetings in the two years you were there. Hell, you should be their poster child, not Alfred Bester!" Lyta commented vehemently, referring to the manipulative, dangerous Psi-Cop the women both despised.

"If the Corps were that...perfect Family we were led to believe it was, you would have gone on with your career, and a long, successful one, at that...probably still be assigned to Babylon 5, probably be happily married to Susan," Lyta added, with a fleeting, wry grin. Her features darkened again.

"But that's not what Psi-Corps is about and it's not what they want. They've hurt us; they've hurt all their children, and because they are evil, they destroyed a perfectly good Daughter."

 

* * *

 

More clouds rolled into the sky and the moisture in the warm air seemed to heighten, the wind picking up. Wind chimes hanging on the balcony sang their songs. As the wind played about the two telepaths, tugging at their hair and clothes, Lyta noticed idly, the white petals coming free of their clothing and hair, to ride with the air.

"I didn't know what I wanted, but I wanted more," Lyta continued in reflection. "I tried for Psi-Cops, at least as an aide, since my ability rating wasn't high enough, and found it wasn't the dream I thought it was. I followed Kosh, allowed myself to be be altered, and then the Vorlons turned out to be more masters than saviors. And then there was Byron, and his vision....and here I am today, planet-hopping with G'Kar, a born-again Narn!"

That got a sound of mirth from Talia. Lyta sighed heavily, and took a long drink from her glass.

"There are two questions the Vorlons and Shadows love to ask. I guess they think that they're the only two questions worth asking. 'Who are you', and 'What do you want'."

Lyta looked at Talia, expectant and serious.

"Who are you?" She asked quietly.

Talia felt a touch of disturbing deja vu, from that frightening moment in the clearing.

"Talia," she answered gently, in her low tone.

"What do you want?" Lyta asked.

"Susan," Talia answered simply.

Lyta sat in silence after the blonde woman's answer, her dark eyes distant.

"If only I had had that answer...." she reflected softly, outloud.

 

* * *

 

Lyta turned in her seat to note the position of the sun in the sky. Funny how many different worlds I visit, I still clock by that planet's sun, Lyta thought to herself. She turned to face her table companion again, meeting receptive, blue eyes. She's so attentive, Lyta mused. Focused. but not obtrusively so. That's what made her so good when she was a commercial telepath. Her talents are wasted as some token, military observer for Psi-Corps, but it does keep her with Susan. Of course I could be a tree frog and she might have that same look of attentiveness on her face.

Lyta inadvertently snorted outloud, as Talia raised her eyebrows inquisitively.

She's listened to me--me, my thoughts, my concerns, more than anyone has in years. I've always been Lyta, the magical telepath, for everyone. Lyta, scan that planet. Lyta, fight that Shadow ship. She must understand what that's like; Psi-Corps took away her very body from her, just so they could have complete control over her abilities. It's only because they can't scan her, that they don't know yet that they've failed.

"Talia," Lyta ventured hesitantly, breaking their long silence.

"Yes?" Talia answered softly.

"I've talked...shared so much. Isn't there anything you'd like to talk about?"

Talia's head leaned a little to the side, her regard of her red-haired companion, casual, hardly reflective.

"There's nothing much for me to say. You deep-scanned me."

Lyta's mouth twitched into a smile. Such a slight joke, but it worked.

"Talia..." Lyta asked.

"Yes?" She answered softly again.

"Why aren't you angry with me for having given you the password?" Lyta finally asked. It was a revelation she almost would not have believed, had she not see it within Talia's mind itself.

Talia was surprised by the question, and concern entered her face as she leaned in to regard her table companion intently.

"Lyta, you are not responsible for the artificial personality that was placed within me," she reassured.

Lyta shook her head vehemently.

"I knew what I was doing sending that password into you, Talia!" she interrupted angrily. She turned aside a moment, as if to compose herself. She continued in a calmer tone.

"I knew that the password would destroy the original personality as the artificial one was activated. I don't regret what I did; Psi-Corps had to be stopped. I just don't understand why you've forgiven this."

Talia listened carefully to the defeated bafflement in Lyta's tone. It was a question she had never given thought to. She had always seen that horrible event has something beyond the control of everyone involved, a situation of malevolent intrigue and coldly, impersonal consequences that had taken away her life with one telepathically given word. The answer to Lyta's question was simple really.

"For the same reason you are probably going to tire of hearing me give," Talia replied gently. "When you stopped me from unwittingly betraying the command staff of Babylon 5, it saved Susan."

The red-haired telepath blinked at the simple response.

Of course, she reflected. And that pretty much tells me what your next reaction will be.

Lyta nodded curtly, accepting Talia's words, and sent the blonde telepath a brief experience; one relating part of her exploration while deep-scanning Talia's mind.

*This is what's left of the artificial personality,* she sent. *They're traces of the...other Talia's memories, but so indistinct, they will continue to fade away, as the rest of her memories in your consciousness have*.

Talia was fascinated by this experience of her own thought-scape. She nodded her acknowledgment.

*Yes....just as the ascent of the construct displaced me, leaving no room for my existence, my return to my own consciousness left no room for it. Since it had no where else to flee to, it was destroyed, my own thoughts now creating new memories over the remains of its own*.

"Who helped you come back?" Lyta asked aloud.

Talia frowned. It was a strange question. Lyta would already know the answer, having scanned her.

*Noone did*, she sent. *It was a set of fortunate circumstances. Susan told me that I--my body had been shot during a boarding assault of an enemy ship. The trauma shocked the artificial self into a temporary coma. This provided an opportunity for my own self-awareness to resurface, and realizing that Susan still loved and wanted me, gave me the strength to fight my way back and take control of my mind and body again*.

"Did you....see something wrong?" Talia asked aloud, staring intently at the red-haired telepath.

Lyta dropped her gaze, toying with her glass.

"No. I saw nothing wrong," she answered.

*It's very good, thorough work, actually*, she sent the blonde telepath. *I shouldn't expect anything less of you*.

Confusion entered Talia's features.

*You used an intriguing method to hide some information*, Lyta quietly sent.

Talia sat still, an immense, cold chill running through her body.

"What kind is it?" Lyta continued casually, out loud.

Talia did not answer, a partial recall having occurred, well hidden memories returning, triggered by Lyta's question.

"It's Minbari," she finally replied, but her husky voice was barely above a hoarse whisper.

*It's a very good method. Psi-Corps would have been fooled easily and never seen it. The Centauri telepath guild would never have understood it. And even the Minbari telepaths would have had to wrestle with it to get it to unlock. It's a puzzle they've lost the awareness of, isn't it? Did you retrieve the knowledge on Shiraka*?

Lyta took a drink, a drink she could not taste. She regarded Talia silently, who was as still as stone.

*It takes a race older than the Minbari to know the answer*, Lyta sent. *The trigger for the entire memory to return to you is when she touches your mind again, isn't it*.

Lyta realized that she couldn't move.

It was a subtle gesture; the red haired telepath was not being harmed in any way. No pressures on her body, no constrictions on her air passage. Everything seemed fine, except that Lyta couldn't twitch the slightest muscle if her survival depended on it. Meanwhile, Ms. Winters sat before her, her beautiful features the model of polite regard, her body relaxed and hardly tense, yet so still. It was in her wide, cool eyes, now reflecting a bright, chilling blue, where the truth of the situation lay.

*Hurt her....* came Talia's mental voice, so uncharacteristically....menacing, it hung like ice in the air, just for that reason.

"I know," Lyta spoke softly, finding, surprisingly, that she could still use her voice. "Then things would have happened differently in the clearing of white flowers."

For a long time the women regarded each other. One, having no choice in the matter, really.

*I only wanted you to know, that I know*, Lyta finally sent.

For one brief moment, as she listened to the deep thump of her own heart, Lyta gazed into enigmatic blue eyes and thought Talia might--

She felt her body freed.

She let out a ragged breath. Not that she needed to--only to express her not-so-subtle relief. Talia had held her in place in a relaxed position, hardly discomforting. Just the knowledge that the blonde telepath--telekinetic, Lyta corrected herself--could snap her neck in a blink, caused Lyta some concern.

So much for my being a Vorlon secret weapon, Lyta managed to think dryly.

She gave the blonde woman across from her a nervous glance, noticing that she still hadn't moved.

"So," Lyta remarked aloud. "When tonight, do you think you'll be seeing her?"

A slight quirk visited Talia's red lips, a sign, Lyta recognized in surprise, that meant she was about to make a joke.

"That, Ms. Alexander, is on a 'need to know' basis," she answered in polite, soft tones, quoting a popular Psi-Cop reply. "And you do not need to know."

 

* * *

 

The shadows had lengthened, the trees grown dark around the small cafe. The presence of others had vanished, it seemed, the Dumarii patrons having disappeared dutifully for evening prayer, leaving two human telepaths alone at their balcony table to privately contemplate each other...and the possibility of consequences.

"I should get going," Lyta eventually said, breaking the long, uncomfortable silence. Her table companion said nothing, her gaze intent, her attractive features unreadable.

"Talia...." Lyta began. In response, the blonde telepath's head tilted to the side inquisitively, eyes lidding.

Waiting.

Lyta had intended to thank Talia for this day; though, considering all that she had put her former friend through, she doubted that she deserved to express it, but she had wanted to try. However, Talia's attitude showed that she expected something else, and she was giving the red-haired telepath that chance.

Lyta could not take it. For the very same reason why she had finally turned on everyone else she had worked with and previously believed in. Her eyes grew dark with the resolve of what she has committed to.

"Talia," Lyta continued, emotion evident in her voice. " There will be a war. A war with Psi-Corps. And when they fall--"

"We will be very happy," Talia finished emphatically; the 'we', meaning she and Susan. Her gaze broached no further discussion on that subject.

Lyta swallowed, understanding. She stood up, aware of the sun shining directly on her back, casting her shadow upon Talia's seated form. she moved, and allowed the evening light to illuminate the blonde woman, gracing her pale skin; the shine of her eyes.

She really does take one's breath away, Lyta thought in admiration, surprised that, after all her experiences with things of inner significance, of abstract beauty and cosmic phenomenon--of things Vorlon and of First Ones, she should still be impressed by what could be seen as only superficial good looks. However, Talia Winters was far more than that, Lyta knew, and this made the woman's physical beauty all the more precious.

Again, words rose to Lyta's throat, wishing to express her appreciation somehow, but again, she knew that it was not what the other telepath wished to hear. She made to leave.

"Lyta," Talia called in her low voice, and placed a hand on the red-haired telepath's arm as she passed.

There is no need for her to lift a hand, Lyta observed. She could stop my body with a thought; impede my path; fling me off this balcony right now just to insure that I never leave with her secret. How is it that such a power has been given to a woman who would never abuse it? The universe should thank Jason Ironheart.

Talia stood up, the evening sun casting a bright, white highlight along her face. She said nothing but merely leaned in, wrapping her arms around the much thinner woman.

Oh God, what is she doing? Lyta cried to herself, yet gratefully accepted the embrace, her own arms wrapping tight around her former friend. She could not help the sob; comfort, comfort at last. Long held tears stung her eyes and finally fell, her old, old sadnesses for all the losses that had, so far, happened in her life. And especially for the loss she was committing now.

I cannot promise her, Lyta grieved. I can't. I want revenge, and if I can turn around and intend harm on people like Sheridan and Delenn for that sake, how can I promise that I won't harm Susan?

"I know," came Talia's low whisper at her ear.

She held Lyta very close.

"This is good bye."

And Lyta buried her face at the pain those soft words caused.

When they finally parted, there were no more words. Lyta wiped wearily at her eyes as she stood before Talia, seeing nothing, not wishing to acknowledge the familiar form before her, whose own eyes were downcast. She turned and quickly exited.

As her feet hurried down the dark steps, a sense of completion entered her misery; her heart was now closed. She was prepared, once again, to do whatever it would take to destroy Psi-Corps.

 

* * *

 

"Ensign!!" Ivanova barked for what seemed the tenth time.

"Two minutes, Captain!" The young man answered loudly. He accelerated the vehicle as safely as was possible through the deserted Dumarii streets, hoping in his anxiety that he hadn't gotten them lost and that the park's walls would mercifully appear. He really wanted to keep his poor head safely attached to his shoulders.

Ivanova fumed.

She had fumed on the flight to the Rasputin, where her ship rested in the neutral space adjoining Dumarii territory. She had hidden it well beneath her more terse, officer manners, but she had been fuming every spare moment while indulging the Admiral's long-winded reminisces. The old dog had been all right. He loved ships, and despite Susan's preoccupations, she had found herself avidly discussing the Minbari, Centauri, and other warships she'd encountered while at Babylon 5, and the merits of her own Warlock class cruiser. However, when the old man had noticed her distraction during yet another of his Earth/Minbari war stories, he had startled Ivanova with a teasing question.

"So who's the lucky fella?" He had ribbed gently.

"Girl, you mean, Sir," Ivanova had corrected with the first real grin she'd felt since reboarding her ship. The Admiral had managed to get Ivanova to retrieve a holopicture of Talia so that he might satisfy his curiosity.

His low whistle of appreciation had made Susan blush and indulge in a little, smug satisfaction. The old boy hadn't seemed bothered either, that Talia was Psi-Corps. Of course, Talia's holopicture gave the Admiral an excuse to pull out his own set of holos of his wife, children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren....

Ivanova gave her thigh a frustrated thump with her clenched fist. She was still in her Earthforce dress uniform, not bothering to change but had headed straight to her shuttle once the Admiral had departed in his. As it turned out, the only reason her ship hadn't waited for her at the maintenance yards at Io, was because the old man had utilized his authority to excuse taking the Rasputin--her ship--out for a short trip to pick up the Captain.

"I'm retiring in two months, Captain," he had said. "Just wanted to see hyperspace again from the bridge of one of the latest, most advanced ships in our fleet."

No, Susan had reflected. She couldn't blame him. However, throughout her time accommodating the old boy, she could not shake the nagging apprehension that she should not have left planetside; that the feeling she had experienced in the shuttle terminal was not fancy, or even a premonition, but perhaps some communication with Talia, and if that were true, then Susan had made a horrible mistake.

She rubbed fitfully at her temples. Though the streets of the city appeared deserted, she could still sense the thoughts and emotions of the citizens within the houses and buildings as if they were out and milling about her harried mind. Her worry was wearing at her mental control over her telepathic blocks, and in turn, the result of a thousand voices taking close residence to her awareness was giving her a splitting headache.

The car jerked to a stop, causing Ivanova to emit a hot Russian oath.

"Sir!--" The ensign began, only to hear the click of the exit panel and see his Captain flash pass to hit the ground running, now disappearing into the park entrance.

The young man tried to close his open mouth. He had half an impulse to break out a PPG rifle (if he had one), and run pounding after Ivanova, but wisely reconsidered. Instead, he decided to sit quietly in the car, and await further orders.

The moment Ivanova ran pass the gates she sent the message out.

*TALIA!* She mentally shouted, and the telepathic message was a burst that detonated from the anxious Captain to expand like a bomb blast, traveling rapidly in every direction. She had never tried anything like this before, and had no idea if the method worked.

*Here*, came her lover's calm, lovingly familiar, yet distant, telepathic reply.

Elation swelled in Ivanova as she altered her run's direction, her now established connection with Talia providing a mental homing beacon in the meandering layout of the quiet park.

*I'm never leaving you again*, she sent, the conviction in her thought as incontestable as unyielding stone.

 

* * *

 

On a distant, silent shore of the lake, a red-haired woman's head snapped up in surprise from her meditation of the water. She let out a short laugh at the irony of it all; when she had seen the hiding place that had not appeared to be a hiding place, deep in Talia's mind, she recognized it as a Vorlon trick, one possibly taught to Minbari telepaths a thousand years ago during the first Shadow War. Even the suspicion that it might be some elaborate Psi-Corps trap did not prevent Lyta from giving the 'answer' that would unlock the hidden memories and place them in full view. The secret Talia had attempted to keep from her was so simple, so unnecessary it seemed, were this a reality without Psi-Corps, that it touched Lyta with the poignancy of the attempt. Now the focus of all of Talia's care to keep that secret had broadcasted it without a single precaution throughout the park, and for that irony, Lyta could indulge in a bittersweet laugh.

It was confirmed. Ivanova was a telepath, and by that display, a very, very powerful one.

 

* * *

 

Ivanova vaulted neatly over the low bushes, her boots hitting the earth without missing a beat in her running stride. Talia had taught her how to 'read' ahead; Susan knew of every physical obstacle, every plant and rock that lay thirty feet ahead of her. If she were to stop and concentrate, she could scan ahead hundreds more feet than that, but Ivanova did not want to stop. Talia's last touch was as a siren's song, and Susan, the seduced sailor, doomed to crash her ship on the unforgiving reefs and drown. But Susan had no intention of crashing, or drowning. As her tireless legs switched direction once again to find the shortest route to her goal, she 'touched' the beloved beacon in her mind; Ivanova will have her siren!

And as she burst from the cover of the trees, she saw it ahead of her; a path of light stretching over a lake's surface blazing with the evening's sun. The sight of the silver bridge and the shining waters was dazzling in its beauty--if Ivanova took the time to be dazzled. She had eyes and admiration for one thing alone; the woman she could sense standing at the bridge's very center. Without hesitation and without a single pause, the Captain ran for the bridge's end and began her determined ascent....

 

* * *

 

The Vorlons and Shadows ask two questions, reflected Lyta, as she watched the small, unstoppable figure of Ivanova run for the bridge of light. Words came back to Lyta, overheard while on Mars from a pirate Resistance transmission bounced back through space from the bridge of the White Star 2; the ship, at the head of the White Star fleet and commanded by Ivanova, rushing to engage President Clark's forces.

"Who am I? I am Susan Ivanova, Commander, daughter of Andrei and Sophie Ivanov. I am the right hand of vengeance, and the boot that is going to kick your sorry ass all the way back to Earth. I am death incarnate, and the last living thing that you are ever going to see. God sent me."

As the figure of the Captain continued her unceasing ascent of the bridge, Lyta did not have to think further on what Susan wants.

 

* * *

 

Susan's boots pounded a clanging, noisy, beat on the bridge's metal surface, as she pushed herself up the deceptively slow rising incline. Sweat stung her eyes as she steadily advanced. She reached for the collar she'd already loosened and hastily pulled the tunic zipper down.

*Susan, you're going to break the bridge*, came Talia's light admonition.

*Then the Dumarii're going to have to buy a new one!* Susan sent back.

The distance was still too far away, her Talia barely the size of her hand before her vision. Ivanova gritted her teeth and pressed on, ignoring the fiery pain in her legs and the lake's water become more and more distant below her. She lost her balance only once, hitting the railing side.

*Susan*, came Talia's smooth, mental voice. *You're going to fall in the water*.

*I'll have meant to do it!* Susan sent, beginning to rasp from the burn in her lungs. *Captains take headers off bridges for a reason!*

Oh God, Susan prayed. I want to be with her so badly. Please God, let me live until I reach her.

Her pace was considerably slower now, but steady. Ivanova managed to stay erect, eyes sharp and focused on the goal she was climbing--struggling--up this bridge for. Her legs had burned off yards ago; now her chest was on fire.

*Susan*, came Talia's husky, mental voice, now with a hint of concern. *Please, don't die on me. How will I explain this to Earthforce?*

*Tell them*, Susan sent, grimly pulling herself up the railing as she breathed harshly. *That Captain Susan Ivanova died in the service of Earth and Yahweh, seeking His errant Angel, and passed on with no regret in her heart*.

She reached her at last, standing only fifteen feet away, and the flood of welcoming warmth and love she felt from the beloved, beautiful woman before her, was enough that the rasping of her harsh breath seemed silenced, the painful fire in her body and lungs seemed non-existent. Susan would have moved for her then, if the shortcomings of her body could have been a little more non-existent, so as she stood and heaved her exertion, she noticed something all too familiar and yet long unseen in her lover's features; the subtle, indefinable sadness that would touch Talia Winters' face at times, when Susan knew her on Babylon 5.

"What happened??" Susan managed to gasp aloud, recalling her disturbed feeling from earlier that day, and utter dismay filled her face.

Talia closed the distance between them and buried herself in Susan's arms, needing to feel her, working her bare hands into the open dress jacket and wrapping her arms around Susan's sweat dampened shirt. She hugged her tight and mentally shushed Susan's fears.

*Nothing's wrong. Nothing's wrong...* she soothed in response to Susan's urgent question repeated over and over in her mind.

*I will tell you later*, she reassured, and buried her head in the crook of Susan's neck, feeling the hot and fast pulse there beat rapidly against her face.

At that assurance, the mental insistence from Ivanova for an explanation ceased, and she now became completely aware of the feel of Talia tucked tight and warm against her, as if they could never break apart.

She leaned back against the railing, still breathing heavily, and just held her lover close in her arms.

When Susan' mind had touched Talia's from across the park, the trigger had happened, and Talia was given total recall: Susan wasn't a latent telepath, she was a very powerful telepath, and one of such power, she had been able to find the true Talia that had been lost under the dominance of the artificial personality and to guide her back, aiding in its destruction. It was Susan who had helped her back. And it was Susan who could touch her as intimately as was possible when two telepaths 'joined', their minds made one in the act of making love. Only two people had been able to do so for Talia; Susan and Jason.

Susan and Jason, Talia repeated to herself reverently.

Only she knew that Susan had this kind of power. And now one other did as well.

She held Susan tight and could feel the rapid pounding of her lover's heart and the deep, quick rise and fall of her chest against her own. The Minbari trick should have--would have worked. She had sent the personal password to herself before Lyta was to deep scan her, initiating the method that would hide all knowledge away of Susan's telepathy and erect the false memories she had painstakingly constructed concerning her recovery. Until Lyta had given her partial recall to the point of remembering Susan's latent condition back on Babylon 5, Talia had been under the belief that she was in love with a non-telepath; a normal. Just as she had been from the very beginning when she had first seen Susan Ivanova.

Talia turned her head to nuzzle Susan's heated neck, place her lips on the throbbing pulse there and taste the saltiness. She moved to rub her cheek against the side of Susan's sweat-slicked face, smearing the cool wetness on her own flesh.

"You're...getting....."

The embarrassed Captain wanted to finish her sentence, but Talia's actions and her own need to breathe after the climb, stilled her attempt.

Talia continued her possessive caress of Ivanova in this fashion, running her soft cheek along Susan's while she gazed far across the lake, her smoky, blue eyes becoming defocused in their concentration....

 

* * *

 

Lyta received the message. It was an image, no words. Talia had now recalled everything, and would probably tell Ivanova what had happened between them, tonight. It was not the Captain, however, that Lyta had to worry about.

The red-haired telepath turned from the shore for the last time, walking silently away. She wondered what she'll have to tell G'Kar to get him to leave this planet sooner than he was expecting.

 

* * *

 

"What--flowers?" Susan breathed, confused by the image she had felt Talia projecting; a forest clearing, white with fallen flowers.

"Shhh," Talia hushed in her deep tone. "I'll explain that too."

Susan accepted and turned her head to kiss Talia's throat, her chin, her cheek wet with Ivanova's sweat. She was panting with each kiss.

"Stop!" Talia laughed, tickled by the Captain's breath. "You're still tired--"

"I'm not tired!" Susan drew back in indignation.

"I'm 'recovering'," she clarified. She captured Talia's gorgeous, full mouth with her own, then broke the kiss to take a breath.

"There!" She said triumphantly. She bent her head to secure another victory, managing to kiss the telepath for longer before lifting her head for air.

"Wait," Talia breathlessly admonished, slender fingers on the Captain's lips successfully preventing another assault maneuver for her mouth. She pulled back to gaze appreciatively at Susan, loving Ivanova's open expression, her wide mouth parted in a white smile, her large, bright, blue eyes expectant and warm beneath those beautiful eyebrows....

"Can you hear anything?" Talia asked softly.

"Hear something?" Ivanova breathed, frowning at the question. She sent out a suspicious scan all about and under the bridge beneath their feet.

"No," Talia assured, hiding her amusement. "I mean, do you 'hear' anything?"

Ivanova's face broke into a grin as she finally realized.

"No," she answered happily, ecstatic. The 'voices' had completely disappeared. Not even the distant, background murmur was present, that nagging hum of outside thoughts that continued to remind the Captain that she was a telepath despite her strongest blocks. She threw back her head.

"SILENCE!!" She shouted, and in her happiness, hefted the surprised telepath up by the waist, managing a little spin on the narrow width of the bridge.

"Susan!" Talia gasped, gripping Ivanova's shoulders in panic. She was almost as tall as the Captain and only ten pounds lighter. In vertigo and fright she saw the lake's sparkling waters far below flash before her sight.

To her utter relief, Ivanova finally dropped her back down.

Susan's bright eyes danced, taking in every feature of Talia's face.

"Is this why you had me run all the way up here?" She asked.

"I didn't ask you to run," Talia reproached, returning Susan's delight, and delightful gaze.

Their heads met, and they kissed, slowly and sweetly.

"Thank you," Susan murmured sincerely against the telepath's mouth.

She noticed the light dimming around them, and turned to gaze appreciatively at the sunset's last touch on the vast, streaked sky. As the searing disk sank into the horizon, tiny stars winked into being in the darkness far above them. Night fell gently, enveloping the two women standing and watching on the slim, dimly gleaming bridge, in an infinite black blanket, lit only by the bridge's own soft lights.

"How long do we have?" Talia huskily whispered, as Susan held her in the silence broken only by the soft sounds of lapping water and murmuring wind.

"All the time you need," Susan smiled against the telepath's hair. "We're not due back to the Rasputin until tomorrow."

Yet as soon as the words left Susan's mouth, she had the second realization that Talia's question meant more than it seemed. Susan pulled back from their embrace to carefully regard her lover in the bridge's illumination.

"Tell me what happened," she gently demanded.

Talia repressed the sad tendency of her mouth, knowing it was an expression that distressed Susan. She could not prevent the familiar emotion from reaching her soft, blue eyes. For the moment, she avoided meeting the Captain's gaze, and reflectively followed her bare hand's fond tracing of the gold braid trim on Ivanova's lapel. As Susan's warm hand came up to cover the telepath's, Talia grasped the strong fingers first. Smoky, profound eyes met deepened blue ones.

"Can we finish our walk?" Talia softly asked, her rich tone deep.

"Anything," Susan affirmed.

Talia smiled at Susan then, a warm, beautiful communication.

"For you, as well," she promised huskily, her voice deepening. "Anything."

Side by side then, the two women turned to continue the path of the long silver bridge down, bare hands now clasped in an intimacy whose significance was only betrayed by the emotions that began to play, in silent succession, in the Captain's intense, large eyes. Far across the park, a young man in Earthforce blue stood idly, head back, watching the activity of the star strewn sky, while at a public building's window, a red-haired woman gazed out, unseeing and arms crossed, patient and still, while guests of various races droned in the room behind her. In a silent, forest clearing lit only by the reflection of dim starlight on scattered white, the last of the temporary sweet blossoms fell.

 

The end.

 

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