Babylon 5 stories
ISN Anchor Desk - Original Short StoriesDavid Sheridan was dead.
John stared down at the half-burned body laying on the cold metal slab, and let loose a floodgate of tears.
Through everything heíd been through - the Minbari war, the Shadows, the Drakh, even his own death - he had never imagined his father not being there.
Even loosing Anna - twice - wasnít this painful.
"Johnny?" he heard from down the hall. "Johnny! Help!"
He turned away from the sight before him and walked down the hall to where the familiar voice came from.
Five men in EarthForce uniforms surrounded his mother, PPGís ready to fire. He could already smell the ozone from the charges.
He turned to the senior officer and asked, "What the hell do you think youíre doing?"
The twenty-something nervously lowered his PPG and said, "Mister President, this woman did not have proper authorization to get past the desk, but she tried to force her way in."
"I see. And do you know who she is?"
"No, Sir, I..."
"Did you ask her what her name is?"
The officer tugged at his tunic and said, "Well, Sir, uh..."
"No," Sheridan finished for him."
"Would it interest you to know, Cadet," he said, emphasizing the word, "that this woman is one of the most-decorated diplomats Earth has ever had? Would it interest you to know that more people downloaded her biography from ISN last year than President Luchenkoís?" He was starting to raise his voice now, and he knew he was about to lose it with this drone. "Would it interest you to know that she was married to man laying in that room, and that her name is Sheridan, as in the mother of the President?"
The officer was very flustered. Enough so that he made a very agreeable thump on the floor when he fainted.
"Donít bother answering. You see that piece of paper over there on the desk?" he asked the remaining officers. "Guard it for awhile and leave us alone."
He faced his mother and pulled her close. Sheíd been crying - for how long, he did not know. He wiped the tears away, but knew that the tears remained on her soul. "Are you sure you want to do this, Mom?" She nodded. "Itís pretty bad. I just wanted to warn you."
Sheridan held his motherís hand as they stared at the body of his father.
Sheridan blamed himself. Who else could he blame?
The Drakh attack on Earth had, for the most part, failed. Oh, certainly, there were many who died, but only a fraction of the numbers the Drakh had been counting on. A cure had been found, thanks to the efforts of the Excalibur crew working with the Rangers.
In a final act of vengeance, the Drakh had killed David Sheridan.
"My God," a voice called from behind them. "Itís true. Heís really..."
"Itís true, Lizzie," John said.
"But - why? Everyone loved him. It just ... Johnny, it doesnít make sense!"
"Thereís a lot about this that doesnít make sense. It was the Drakh. They couldnít get to me through that damned virus, so they took him from me." He turned away, walking toward the window, and surveyed the landscape below.
"Mom, Lizzie, Iím sorry. I wasnít there to stop this from happening. But by God, Iím going to send them straight to hell." He stormed out of the room and returned to the EarthForce officers.
"You," he said to the now-conscious guard, "get Delenn on the line. And you," he pointed to a second guard, "I want a White Star docked outside in five minutes. Top priority."
The Excalibur had been the only one of its kind, after the Victory was destroyed. That much was true, for a very long time. But that was years ago. Just two days from now, Sheridan was scheduled to announce that a fleet of Excalibur-class starships, thirteen in all, were to join the ISAís White Star fleet. They would be manned by mixed crews of Humans, Rangers, Minbari, and Narn.
Delennís face appeared on the screen a few seconds later. "John! Is it true? David?"
"Delenn, itís worse. This time the Drakh have gone too far. Have the fleet - and I mean every last ship you can find - at the station in 48 hours. Iíll have Lochley, Michael, and Gideon meet us there. Itís time for the Drakh to follow their masters straight to Hell."
And so, it begins.