Michael Garibaldi had a headache, and some would say that he was heading in the wrong direction if he wanted treatment. As he walked along the corridors of the massive Babylon 5 space station his mind was on his current huge task. So much on his task in fact that he almost bumped into several others as he walked along. Soon, however, he arrived at his destination, the office of Commander Jeffrey Sinclair, the commanding officer of the station. Garibaldi entered to find Sinclair deep in his work. It appeared that the security chief was not the only one snowed under. Sinclair glanced up as Garibaldi entered.
“What can I do for you Michael?” he asked.
Garibaldi sat down in the chair opposite Sinclair. He let out a huge sigh.
“Boy, have I got a massive headache!” he said.
Sinclair looked surprised.
“Are you sure you’re in the right place then?” he asked. “If you’ve got a headache you should have gone to see Doctor Franklin in Med-Lab.”
“I was speaking figuratively.” responded Garibaldi. “I’m talking about organising the security for this inauguration.”
“Ah yes.” said Sinclair. “The inauguration of your new President, James Watt, and his right hand man, Thomas Leacock. It should be one hell of an event.”
“I know.” said Garibaldi. “That’s what’s giving me the headache. Have you seen the guest list? It’s like a who’s who of the universe!”
Sinclair began to search through the vast amount of papers on his desk.
“I’ve got it here somewhere.”
He soon found the piece of paper.
“I see what you mean.” he said. “As well as all of the Babylon 5 ambassadors there are several more from other worlds, as well as many of Starfleet’s most senior officers.”
“But just look at the list!” said Garibaldi. “Look, Admiral Quinn, Lethbridge-Stewart, both McClouds, Picard, Sisko.”
“Ah, Ben Sisko. It’s been a while since I saw him. Maybe we could trade a few tips.”
“Will you get serious Jeff?” said an irate Garibaldi. “There are going to be over two hundred V.I.P. guests at this thing, and I’m the only one organising security for this thing. What I want to know is why here? Why have his inauguration here? Why not Earth? Starfleet Security would have been better to organise this thing.”
Sinclair put down his piece of paper and leaned back in his chair.
“Babylon 5 means a lot to our new president.” he started. “As a Starfleet Admiral he over-saw the construction of this station. As an Ambassador he served as Earth’s representative. Now, as President, he wants to start his reign here. Babylon 5 is like a child to him, and means more to him than anyone can ever know.
There was then a beeping sound heard. It was from Sinclair’s communicator. The call was from the first officer of Babylon 5, Lieutenant Commander Susan Ivanova.
“Go ahead.” said Sinclair.
“The President and his party are now on board the station.” said Ivanova. “His Chief of Security would like to see you and Mister Garibaldi.”
“Excellent.” said Sinclair. “Send him in.”
“It’s not a him Commander.”
Garibaldi turned to Sinclair.
“This guy picks a woman as his chief of security?”
“Don’t make any rash judgements.” said Sinclair. “At least not until we’ve met her. Very well, send her in.”
The door to Sinclair’s office opened, and in the doorway stood a woman dressed in a red and black Starfleet uniform. On her collar she wore three rank insignia.
“Lieutenant Commander Ro Laren reporting for duty.”
“Ro Laren?” said Garibaldi. “Last thing I heard you were an Ensign on the Enterprise.”
“That was quite some time ago.” said Ro. “Since then I served as tactical officer on the Pinafore, and then the President personally picked me as his chief of security.”
“A Bajoran would have been the last person I expected.” said Garibaldi.
“Please excuse my friend here. I’m Commander Jeffrey Sinclair, commanding officer of Babylon 5, and this is our security chief Michael Garibaldi.”
Ro shook both of their hands.
“To tell you the truth I’m glad I got this new assignment.” said Ro. “Hopefully I won’t have to travel around too much. Anyway, my orders are to work with you with regards to security for this inauguration.”
“At last, some help.” said Garibaldi. “Organising security for thing is giving me heartburn.”
“So what happened to the headache?” asked Sinclair.
“With all of the ships in close proximity I’m having to triple our shifts.”
“Protection of the ships is not our responsibility.” said Ro. “Naturally their security is down to their own security chiefs. We are only responsible for the safety of those on this station, most notably President Watt and V.P. Leacock. Tell me Commander, are the arrangements for tonight’s reception complete?”
“I left them in the capable hands of my first officer.” Sinclair replied.
“Good.” said Ro. “As you know, the President just wanted an informal reception, just to welcome all of the visitors to the station.”
The discussion about security lasted for another hour. Afterwards Garibaldi showed Ro to her quarters.
“There is one question I’d like to ask you.” said Garibaldi. “I heard you were offered the first officer’s position on Deep Space Nine.”
“I was.”
“Why did you turn it down? You could have gone from an Ensign to Lieutenant Commander straight off.”
“I know. But I wanted to work my way up through the ranks. I went from an Ensign on the Enterprise, through to Lieutenant on the Pinafore, to now, a Lieutenant Commander on the President’s staff. Anyway, D.S.9 would have constricted me, I feel, and they now have a more than capable first officer in an old friend of mine.”
It was half an hour later when Commander Sinclair walked down the corridors of the ambassadorial wing, on his way to greet the new arrivals. The presidential party had been assigned the best quarters on Babylon 5, quarters only used for very special occasions. When Sinclair arrived there were two armed guards standing either side of the doorway. When Sinclair arrived they acknowledged his presence. Sinclair did likewise to the guards and pressed the door buzzer.
“Come in!” said a voice from the inside.
Sinclair stepped forward and the door opened. What he found inside was not what he expected. He had expected to find men preparing for the forthcoming celebrations. What he found was four old friends engaged in the telling of old stories, stories that brought them into high spirits. Sinclair was not expecting this. In one of the chairs was seated a man with blonde hair who looked in his mid-thirties. He was, in fact, nearly four hundred years old. Sinclair recognised him instantly.
“Welcome to Babylon 5 President Watt.” Sinclair said, extending his hand, which Watt grasped.
“It’s good to see you again Jeff!” said Watt. “Of course you know everyone here I think. I’ll introduce you anyway. My V.P., Thomas Leacock, your new C-in-C, Admiral Duncan McCloud, and his fellow clansman, and my new chief of staff, Commodore Connor McCloud.”
“The Commander and I served together during the Minbauri War.” said Connor.
“Yes. I was a young officer who spent some time on the Lohengrin.” said Sinclair. “I’m glad to see you’re now fully recovered from your injuries.”
“Come Jeff, have a drink with us.” said Watt.
Watt poured some blue liquid into a glass and handed it to Sinclair.
“Romulan ale!” said Sinclair. “I thought this stuff wasn’t to be served at official functions!”
“This is hardly official.” said Duncan. “Come, sit down and join us!”
The five of them sat down.
“Is everyone here yet?” asked Watt.
“The Eldars are expected tomorrow morning.” replied Sinclair. “The Valkyrie is expected in the next few hours, but the Yorktown and the Aswan are several hours late.”
“Have you had any contact with them?” asked Leacock.
“None. That’s what’s worrying me.” said Sinclair.
“It’s probably just nothing.” said Connor. “Probably a couple of the guests proving a little tetchy. Now hurry up and finish your drink.”
Sinclair took a sip from his glass.
“Who am I to argue with a superior officer!”
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