I do not own these characters nor do I claim to. If who ever does has a  problem with me borrowing them for nonprofit purposes, they can sue me.  They won't get much. In fact, they'd have to wait untill my checks to = walmart don't bounce anymore. I am only a poor college student. A  sequel may be in the works. Send email to:   stephanie1inamil@hotmail.com 
Hell and Back 
By Stephanie Meyer 
  

Susan Ivanova stood on the bridge of her ship and stared out at the stars. They used to inspire her. Now she just wished they'd stop spinning. It was odd. She could never look at the stars anymore without seeing them twirling around like psychotic members of the Russian ballet. IT reminded her of a sinister version of the dance of the snow queen she'd once seen as a child. The thing of it was, it was all in her head. Every bit of it. No one else observed the astral acrobatics she was forced to view. 

"Captain?" 

Ivanova turned toward the voice. Her second in command stood, waiting for her to hand the watch to him. She raised an eyebrow. Somehow, she didn't inspire the same terror on her bridge crew as she had on Babylon 5. Then again, the bridge was less chaotic than C & C.  She shook her head. She'd never let loose on them.  She should. She smiled to herself. It might be fun. She yielded the  bridge to the commander. 

Susan sat in her quarters, vodka glass in hand. The hour of the wolf was upon her. Her link went off. 

"Captain to the bridge."  Funny, that wasn't her second in command's voice. The ship rocked. They were underfire. An extremely angry Ivanova stormed onto o the bridge. The storm that ensued was a gentle shower compared to old. In fact, Corwin and the rest of the C&C crew would have barely blinked. But it was far more than her new crew had seen. They knew their Captain had a sharp tongue, and they'd heard she had a temper. They'd never seen it first hand. Yet. 

"What the hell is going on?!" 

The commander looked up from the consul. "They just appeared out of hyperspace and started firing." 

"Why wasn't I called earlier?!" 

"I thought...." 

"You don't think unless I tell you to!"  Susan's fury was interrupted as she slammed into the back of her command chair when the ship was plummeted by the next volley. "God damnit, shoot back at it!" 

"Yes, sir!" 

"What's firing at us?" 

"A...Centri ship." 

Susan's head began to ache. "Target their under belly. The sheilding's weaker."  Her head was pounding. Sound began to tunnel. "I guess we know who's behind the phantom attacks the Alliance has been reporting."  Was that her voice? 

"Sir, I........" the commander began. 

"Do not attempt to explain yourself. Did I not tell you I want to be called no matter what if there was a situation?" 

"Yes, sir." 

"Now, we have damage and need to dock. I may have been able to prevent that. Isn't that right?" 

"Yes, sir, but..." 

Her head was throbbing. Her eye began to twitch. "'Ivanova is always  right. I will listen to Ivanova. I will not ignore Ivanova's  recommendations. Ivanova is God. And if this ever happens again, Ivanova will personally rip your lungs out.'  Is that understood?" 

"Yes, sir." 

A wave of white hot pain washed over her. She felt her nose began to bleed. "Set a course for Babylon 5. Signal them. Let them know we're coming in. Do not mention this incident. Contact me before we exit their jump gate."  She turned heal and left the bridge. As soon as she was safely inside her quarters, she collapsed to her knees, clutching her head. 

"Oh, please God, not now," she gasped before she surrendered. Her eyes darkened into black pools and tears of blood ran from her eyes. She gave into the multitude of voices plaguing her. Her meager blocks were washed away by the flood of thoughts rushing at her. Susan huddled in the fetal position desperately trying to survive. 

Sheridin's link went off. This day was never going to end. He shot a long suffering glance at Deleen who just smiled. "Yes." 

"John," Captain Lockley sounded apologetic, "the Hermitage just reported in. She's arriving in two days." 

"Ivanova?" 

"Her XO contacted us. I thought you'd want to know." 

"Thank you."  John looked at his wife. He could see his own worry reflected in her face. Why was Ivanova returning? 

A buzzing woke her. Her door chime. 

"Yes," she barked. 

"Sir, we'll be docking on Babylon 5 in ten minutes." 

"Thank you."  Susan climbed to her feet. She glanced at her face in the mirror. Dried blood caked her face. She quickly scrubbed it away with her fingers. She tidied her hair and straightened her jacket. She felt the ship dock. 

"Commander," she fired off into her link, "see to shoreleave and repairs. I am incommunicado for the duration of our stay, is that clear?" 

"Yes, sir." 

Susan strode out of her quarters and off of her ship. She pushed her way through customs, ignoring the hassled security guard tailing her. He must be new. 

"Look, if you don't get the hell out of my way, I'm going to space you. Am I perfectly clear?" 

"Sir, you have to follow procedure...."  He was silenced as her fist contacted his jaw. Poor kid. If she wasn't in such a foul mood, she would have gone easy on him. She continued on her way. Noting the point in the station cycle, she headed for the Sheridans' quarters verses John's office. 

She stormed past the body guards, Rangers. She refused to focus on them. The way they stood, who they weren't, the unbearable cockiness they projected. 

 

 

She rang and hurtled in as she heard John's voice, "Come..." she stormed to a stop,"....in." 

John looked at his friend. She was pale, thin and wane. She had circles under her eyes. Her knuckles were scrapped. "You're bleeding." 

Susan looked at her hand. "I hand a minor disagreement in customs." 

"Oh, lord. You look terrible." 

Susan collapsed on the couch. "It's good to see you too. Where's Deleen?" 

"She had to step out for a minute. Have you been eating?" 

"Yes, Stephen." 

"Now that's not funny. I don't force horrendous diet plans on people."  "John, I'm going crazy." 

"Susan...." 

"Don't. I had a mind quake." 

"Dear god. Does anyone else know?" 

"No. I managed to get to my cabin before I collapsed."  Susan began to cry. "John...I can't...It's just..." 

John sat next to his friend. he held out his arms to her, and she accepted. He held her as she cried. This was how Deleen found them. 

"Susan!"  Deleen exclaimed. "What is wrong?" 

John looked at his wife. "It's going to take some explaining." 

Susan sat slumped against the Sheridans' couch. Deleen and John had just finished updating her on the telepath situation on the station. It didn't look promising. 

"The one I feel the worst for in this is Lyta."  John's voice was sad. 

Susan stared off into space.   She sighed, "Well, the telepath colony option is out."  She got and began pacing. "I guess that leaves sleepers." 

"Susan..."  John started. He knew about her mother and her feelings about sleepers. 

"Don't start with me, John! You don't have to hear the voices! You don't have to scream for it to stop, stop, stop! You don't have to hear the voices of the dead tormenting you for living!" John rose and grabbed her arms, halting her. 

"Susan?" 

"I hear his voice. All the time. I hear his thoughts. He's inside my head!" 

"Who?" 

"Marcus!"  She collapsed in tears again. John held her. Delenen rose and joined the embrace. 

"John," she said quietly over the sobbing Ivanova, "perhaps you should contact Stephen about the drugs." 

"Maybe I should." 

Susan watched the needle sink into her arm. The drugs emptied into her system. 

"How you doing?" 

"They're going away, Stephen." 

"You'll have to redose every twelve hours. I'll supply you with enough for the next six months. I assume you want to keep this a secret." 

She nodded. Her reply was lost to the advent of Garabaldi. 

"Susan!"  He picked her up off the bed and swung her around. (Thankfully, Stephen had already extracted the needle.) "God, it's good to see you. I've been worried." 

"Put me down. Now." 

"Hello, Ivanova." 

"Don't start, Michael, please." 

"Yeah, sure. You O.K.?" 

"No, I might not ever be again."