Ambassador Mollari sat in his quarters rather an unhappy man. At a nearby table his attaché, Vir, sat looking at a computer terminal screen, doing what he does most of the time - eating. Even though he seemed intent in his work he still found time to speak to his master.
“Tell me, Vir.” said Mollari. “How may Centauri gods are there now? Ever since the last emperor was elevated to god-hood I’ve lost count!”
“Err…forty-seven…no, forty-eight…wait…forty-nine, but there are some I don’t count as gods!”
“How many, Vir?”
“Fifty, give or take a few!”
“And how many of them do you think I have offended to warrant G’Kar’s teeth so close to my throat?”
Vir raised his finger as if he were counting. He then gave his answer.
“Err..all of them?”
“Exactly!”
Mollari then got to his feet and went to pour himself a drink. As he did the terminal sounded. There was an incoming communication.
“Ambassador Mollari please.”
“I’m afraid Ambassador Mollari isn’t taking any calls at the moment.” said Vir.
Mollari, glass of alcohol in hand, walked over to Vir.
“Wait! Let me see who it is!”
Mollari pushed Vir to one side so he could get a good look at the screen. He smiled when he saw who was calling him. It was a smartly-dressed young man.
“Ah, it is you! My friend!”
“How are you Ambassador? I trust the Eye is alright?”
“If not for you I would have lost it! So tell me, to what do I owe this pleasure?”
“My sources tell me you’re having problems with the Narns over Quadrant Thirty-Seven. I can help you with that problem.”
“Help me? How?”
“Not over the channels. I will speak to you personally. What saw we meet in the gardens, in one hour perhaps?”
“Certainly. One hour it is.”
“Good. I’ll see you soon Ambassador.”
“Oh, before you go, what is your name? I never did catch it.”
“My name? You can call me Morgan Ambassador. Again, in one hour!”
The screen went blank. Mollari then sat down in his comfortable chair again. He then took a sup from his drink.
“Who was that, Ambassador?” asked Vir.
“No one to concern you, Vir.” Mollari replied. “Take the rest of the day off!”
Vir could not believe his ears. Mollari hadn’t given him a day off in months! Still, he knew that he should not look a gift horse in the mouth. He took his chance for the time off. He didn’t want to wait for the Ambassador to change his mind.
Garibaldi walked through the darkened halls of Down Below. It was one of the places he least liked on Babylon 5. Down Below was where all the waifs and strays lived, all of those who had come to the station seeking their fortune but could not afford to pay for the trip home. And his appearance cause some uneasiness among the residents. Everywhere he went suspicious eyes looked him over. It was something Garibaldi did not like but something he had gotten used to. Soon he began to ask some questions.
“Did any of you know Stephen Petrov?”
Time and time again Garibaldi asked the same question, and each time he got the same response. No one was interested. Many had probably seen what had happened, but they were more than unwilling to talk.
“Hey, come on!” said Garibaldi. “Don’t you wanna catch the guy who killed him?”
One woman stared sharply at Garibaldi.
“You uniforms are all the same! You only come down here when one of your blue-eyed boys gets into trouble, or when you want something!”
“Hey! I ain’t no Jon! I just want to find out the truth!”
The woman then left, following the others, so she was soon out of the way. Then, as Garibaldi slowly walked along, he heard someone calling out to him. The voice came from inside what appeared to be a tent, a crude form of tent made from various pieces of covering. Garibaldi pushed back one of the coverings and stepped inside. Sitting on top of a box was a rather dirty-looking scruffy man. It looked as if he hadn’t washed or eaten in days. Garibaldi didn’t really like the look of him, but he knew this could be the lead he was looking for.
“I knew Petrov.” the man said. “He was okay, I liked him.”
“Then do you want to help me find his killer?”
“I can try. I have some information. You see, a few days ago some guys came down here looking for some workers. They come down here sometimes and say we want two of you, or five or seven.”
“What kind of work?”
“They said they wanted us to load some cargo for them. If it had been legit they would have used the dock workers. We knew it was a bit shady but when you live down here you take any work you can. These guys came back for Petrov, saying they had more work for him. When he came back he looked scared to death, like he had found out something. He vanished not long after that. The next thing we heard he was dead!”
“Ho was the guy who hired him?”
“I only know one name - Deveraux.”
“Where can I find him?”
“He hangs out in the bars and casinos upstairs. He’s probably there now.”
“Thanks for the info.”
Garibaldi reached into his pocket and took out a coin.
“Here.” he said, tossing it over. “Buy yourself a good meal.”
He looked at the coin.
“With this I can eat for a week!”
Ambassador Mollari walked slowly through the lovely garden area. To may of the humans on the station these gardens represented the only piece of home they could relate to aboard Babylon 5.
After a short while Mollari soon found Morgan sitting on a stone bench. As soon as he saw the Ambassador Morgan stood up and they shook each other’s hand.
“It is good to see you again Mister Morgan.” said Mollari. “But tell me, why did you want to see me? It obviously is not to discuss the Eye!”
“No it isn’t.” said Morgan. “But I understand you have another problem at the moment, the little matter of Quadrant Thirty-Seven.”
“Ah yes. But what does this have to do with you?”
“I can help you solve your problem Ambassador.”
“You? How?”
“I’m afraid I cannot tell you. But the question is do you want my help?”
“I could do with all the help I can get. Yes, I do need your help.”
“Good. Then I shall organise everything.”
Morgan then went to walk away.
“Tell me.” said Mollari. “What is it you are going to do?”
“I’m afraid I can’t tell you. But tell your government that you will personally take care of the Quadrant Thirty-Seven problem.”
“Me? They won’t believe me!”
“I believe they will Ambassador. Just do as I say and everything will work out fine.”
Once again Morgan went to walk away. Then Mollari called out to him.
“How will I pay you? What payment do you want?”
Morgan turned around and smiled.
“I want no payment Ambassador. But there may come a time when I may need you for something, perhaps some information.”
Morgan then raised his hand.
“Good day to you Ambassador.” he smiled.
He then turned and walked away, leaving Mollari hoping that everything would turn out alright.
“Tell me, Vir.” said Mollari. “How may Centauri gods are there now? Ever since the last emperor was elevated to god-hood I’ve lost count!”
“Err…forty-seven…no, forty-eight…wait…forty-nine, but there are some I don’t count as gods!”
“How many, Vir?”
“Fifty, give or take a few!”
“And how many of them do you think I have offended to warrant G’Kar’s teeth so close to my throat?”
Vir raised his finger as if he were counting. He then gave his answer.
“Err..all of them?”
“Exactly!”
Mollari then got to his feet and went to pour himself a drink. As he did the terminal sounded. There was an incoming communication.
“Ambassador Mollari please.”
“I’m afraid Ambassador Mollari isn’t taking any calls at the moment.” said Vir.
Mollari, glass of alcohol in hand, walked over to Vir.
“Wait! Let me see who it is!”
Mollari pushed Vir to one side so he could get a good look at the screen. He smiled when he saw who was calling him. It was a smartly-dressed young man.
“Ah, it is you! My friend!”
“How are you Ambassador? I trust the Eye is alright?”
“If not for you I would have lost it! So tell me, to what do I owe this pleasure?”
“My sources tell me you’re having problems with the Narns over Quadrant Thirty-Seven. I can help you with that problem.”
“Help me? How?”
“Not over the channels. I will speak to you personally. What saw we meet in the gardens, in one hour perhaps?”
“Certainly. One hour it is.”
“Good. I’ll see you soon Ambassador.”
“Oh, before you go, what is your name? I never did catch it.”
“My name? You can call me Morgan Ambassador. Again, in one hour!”
The screen went blank. Mollari then sat down in his comfortable chair again. He then took a sup from his drink.
“Who was that, Ambassador?” asked Vir.
“No one to concern you, Vir.” Mollari replied. “Take the rest of the day off!”
Vir could not believe his ears. Mollari hadn’t given him a day off in months! Still, he knew that he should not look a gift horse in the mouth. He took his chance for the time off. He didn’t want to wait for the Ambassador to change his mind.
Garibaldi walked through the darkened halls of Down Below. It was one of the places he least liked on Babylon 5. Down Below was where all the waifs and strays lived, all of those who had come to the station seeking their fortune but could not afford to pay for the trip home. And his appearance cause some uneasiness among the residents. Everywhere he went suspicious eyes looked him over. It was something Garibaldi did not like but something he had gotten used to. Soon he began to ask some questions.
“Did any of you know Stephen Petrov?”
Time and time again Garibaldi asked the same question, and each time he got the same response. No one was interested. Many had probably seen what had happened, but they were more than unwilling to talk.
“Hey, come on!” said Garibaldi. “Don’t you wanna catch the guy who killed him?”
One woman stared sharply at Garibaldi.
“You uniforms are all the same! You only come down here when one of your blue-eyed boys gets into trouble, or when you want something!”
“Hey! I ain’t no Jon! I just want to find out the truth!”
The woman then left, following the others, so she was soon out of the way. Then, as Garibaldi slowly walked along, he heard someone calling out to him. The voice came from inside what appeared to be a tent, a crude form of tent made from various pieces of covering. Garibaldi pushed back one of the coverings and stepped inside. Sitting on top of a box was a rather dirty-looking scruffy man. It looked as if he hadn’t washed or eaten in days. Garibaldi didn’t really like the look of him, but he knew this could be the lead he was looking for.
“I knew Petrov.” the man said. “He was okay, I liked him.”
“Then do you want to help me find his killer?”
“I can try. I have some information. You see, a few days ago some guys came down here looking for some workers. They come down here sometimes and say we want two of you, or five or seven.”
“What kind of work?”
“They said they wanted us to load some cargo for them. If it had been legit they would have used the dock workers. We knew it was a bit shady but when you live down here you take any work you can. These guys came back for Petrov, saying they had more work for him. When he came back he looked scared to death, like he had found out something. He vanished not long after that. The next thing we heard he was dead!”
“Ho was the guy who hired him?”
“I only know one name - Deveraux.”
“Where can I find him?”
“He hangs out in the bars and casinos upstairs. He’s probably there now.”
“Thanks for the info.”
Garibaldi reached into his pocket and took out a coin.
“Here.” he said, tossing it over. “Buy yourself a good meal.”
He looked at the coin.
“With this I can eat for a week!”
Ambassador Mollari walked slowly through the lovely garden area. To may of the humans on the station these gardens represented the only piece of home they could relate to aboard Babylon 5.
After a short while Mollari soon found Morgan sitting on a stone bench. As soon as he saw the Ambassador Morgan stood up and they shook each other’s hand.
“It is good to see you again Mister Morgan.” said Mollari. “But tell me, why did you want to see me? It obviously is not to discuss the Eye!”
“No it isn’t.” said Morgan. “But I understand you have another problem at the moment, the little matter of Quadrant Thirty-Seven.”
“Ah yes. But what does this have to do with you?”
“I can help you solve your problem Ambassador.”
“You? How?”
“I’m afraid I cannot tell you. But the question is do you want my help?”
“I could do with all the help I can get. Yes, I do need your help.”
“Good. Then I shall organise everything.”
Morgan then went to walk away.
“Tell me.” said Mollari. “What is it you are going to do?”
“I’m afraid I can’t tell you. But tell your government that you will personally take care of the Quadrant Thirty-Seven problem.”
“Me? They won’t believe me!”
“I believe they will Ambassador. Just do as I say and everything will work out fine.”
Once again Morgan went to walk away. Then Mollari called out to him.
“How will I pay you? What payment do you want?”
Morgan turned around and smiled.
“I want no payment Ambassador. But there may come a time when I may need you for something, perhaps some information.”
Morgan then raised his hand.
“Good day to you Ambassador.” he smiled.
He then turned and walked away, leaving Mollari hoping that everything would turn out alright.
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