LEGACY OF THE CALLER
Celebwen Telcontar: Well, here we are. Another chapter.
Balrog: And how long did it take you?
Celebwen Telcontar: Sorry about the time. Please enjoy! As usual, I don’t own Babylon 5 or anything else you recognize. Thanks.
CT
Winddancer snorted as she glided through the stratosphere, her wings buffeting her higher and higher as she flew. Every minute spent looking for her Bonded and not Bonding with her soul-sibling was wasted. The light that emanated from the human’s soul was smothered, banked, blanketed. But Winddancer would reverse that. As she dove down to Geneva, she angled her wings to give her maximum velocity. People screamed, and they dodged. She opened her talons, sighting the edge of the glass building. She caught the edge, but the flimsy material gave under her weight, and it fell. She grasped at the air with her wings, flapping her tail to regain balance, and roared her panic. A jet of white-hot fire melted the glass fragments as she tried to stay stable. She failed and pumped her wings, trying to slow herself down enough so she wouldn’t hit the ground at such high velocity. The buffeting of her wings drove bits of semi-melted glass and debris everywhere, including into people and cars. People poured out of the building she had accidentally demolished, guns drawn and ready.
:What are you?: a voice, cold and hard, thrust into her mind.
:I am a European Mountain Dragon. You?:
:A—A dragon?: the voice gasped. Winddancer lifted her head and shot forth a blast of white-hot flames. The human gulped and stumbled back.
:Are you here for anyone?:
:Yes. Talia Winters, if she is available.:
:I’m sure she is,: the human stammered. He seemed to be less sure of himself now than he had been before. The other humans were milling about Winddancer. One had shot a PPG blast at her, and she shrugged it off, no more an annoyance than a stray drop of water. She turned her head though, and opened her mouth. A jet of white-hot flame burst from the cavernous maw just over the annoying Psi-Cop’s heads. The telepaths yelped and rushed inside; at least the ones who were conscious. Winddancer shifted restlessly, moving her tail to gather all of the fallen humans into one large pile. They’d probably be easier to deal with that way.
The door opened, and a woman stepped out. Her golden hair was cropped in a short, unfashionable style and scars ran through it over her scalp. Her clothes were nothing but a medical gown, and she trailed IV leads.
“What the Hell do you need me for, beast?” she snarled. Winddancer gripped the tattered remnants of her former personality in her mental “hands” and re-shaped it into a real personality, shattering and scattering the false one, sending the P5 telepath into a deep coma at the same time. Talia fell with a thud to the ground, and Winddancer ordered one of the newly-awakened fainting victims to take out her IV leads and dress her into something more modest.
:Thank you,: Winddancer said grudgingly to the people, then grabbed her Bonded in gentle talons and launched herself to the nearest spaceport.
Michael Garibaldi yelled as a creature in the control panel screeched. It went flying out, a small bundle of singed fur and a mischievous smile the size of a large melon. It laughed uproariously, hitting the wall with a thud and leaving a streak of blackened… something.
“Hey! You!” he cried, trying to get control over the situation. He ran after the mischief-maker, and skidded on some drooled saliva decorating the floor with a yell. The goblin cackled manically, and dodged into a wall panel. Michael peeled himself off the ground with a groan, and stared at the small hole the goblin had wriggled into. He heard a security officer screaming, and ran to investigate, only to have his knees knocked out from under him by mischievous goblins.
“That is it!!” the officer snarled. “I am transferring to IO! No more mythical creatures or anything else! Do you hear me, you rabid squirrel?!”
“Yep-yep-yep! Bye-bye!” the goblin crowed. The security officer screeched in indignity.
“Hi-hi,” a voice piped up at Michael’s knee. He saw a goblin with a pig-like nose on a face that would look better on a gorilla. “You funny.”
“I’m funny, huh?” Michael asked the goblin.
“Yep-yep-yep-yep-yep-yep!” The goblin grinned at him, revealing snaggly teeth and a black tongue. Bad dental hygiene, Michael thought, trying to get out of the way of the creature’s halitosis. “You mine!” The goblin leapt on him, hugging him about the waist. Michael groaned. “Me Skeet!”
“Get the hell off of me!” Michael snarled, trying to remove Skeet’s arms from about his waist. The goblin laughed, scrambling up to the former Babylon 5 security chief’s shoulder. “Get off!”
“Nope-nope! You mine!”
“What do you mean?” Michael grunted, trying to get a hold of the wriggling goblin’s body.
“You mine! You my Bond!”
“I’m your Bonded?” Michael asked incredulously. How did he ever get into these situations?! He saw the blackened and singed goblin launch itself at the transferring security officer, gibbering something in its own language. Bits of blackened… something landed on the officer’s face. The man yelled and scraped the gunk off of his face, kicking the electrocuted goblin. The creature laughed as it bounced down the corridors, leaving splotches of black goop wherever he landed.
“Michael?” a voice called. He turned, to find Casabanora and Susan approaching.
“Yah, Susan?” he asked tiredly as Skeet clung to his scalp like a leech.
“I see that you have Bonded,” Susan said, looking like she was trying not to laugh. The unicorn seemed to chuckle and flicked her tail. “With a goblin. What’s its name?”
“Me Skeet!” the goblin, now trying to chew his way through Michael’s shirt, crowed. Michael realized what the goblin was doing and grabbed him by the scruff of the neck.
“Don’t chew on anything!” he barked. Skeet smiled, revealing a bit of Michael’s shirt in his yellowed teeth.
“It’s a lost cause,” Casabanora said. “Goblins will chew on anything they can. I’ve known them to chew right through a bulkhead before.”
“They’ll chew on metal?” Michael asked, looking at Skeet. The goblin smiled and cackled, wriggling down and bolting over to a loose wire, where he began to gnaw with single-minded determination. Soon, Skeet yelped as he was electrocuted, his ragged fur standing on end and acrid smoke slowly rising from his body. The goblin cackled like a mad thing, ripping two wires out of a nearby electrical panel and sticking them in his ears. He shook and glowed with eerie luminescence as the current surged through him. Michael tried to pry his Bonded away from the volatile electricity, but it was a lost cause. Every time he got close to the insane creature, he was shocked by a good-sized voltage leaping from Skeet’s fur. An electrical arc emanating from Skeet’s open mouth hit the top of the ceiling, and the hallway went completely dark.
“Blasted goblin,” Casabanora grumbled, her horn the only form of light. A spine-tingling groan let everyone know that something else had happened to the station, and it was possibly deteriorating in orbit over Epsilon III.
“What the Hell?!” Michael yelped. Other people in the hallway were screaming their confusion as well.
“I take it that you just learned how hazardous it is to be around goblins for any length of time?” Casabanora asked sweetly. “Stand back. Goblin, leave. Go someplace else.” Skeet scrambled up Michael’s uniform, perching on the former Chief of Security’s head. Michael only sighed; things seemed to be getting more and more surreal ever since he left Babylon 5’s security force.
A bright beam of light shot forth from Casabanora’s horn and impacted into the ruined wall panel. The technological mayhem caused by Skeet exploded and the station trembled.
“I think you should leave this to the experts,” Susan said quickly to the unicorn. Casabanora flicked her tail sheepishly.
“I think you’re right, horse,” Michael snarled. The unicorn aimed another magical beam at the broken wall panel, firing before Michael could do anything about it. “Hey!” The station shook even harder, as if it was in the throes of a quake. The lights came back on and flickered erratically, sparking out in spectacular eruptions.
“Magic and technology do not mix!” Susan yelled at Casabanora. The mare neighed her agreement, dancing out of the way of a falling ceiling panel. Skeet screeched and cowered under Michael’s shirt, the former chief of security sighing in resignation. There went another of his good shirts.
“I’m going to tie the power of the Cabanunal and the Lichamere into the station!” Casabanora shouted over the din of falling metal and shorting out bits of technology. The station shivered again, and Susan fell, grasping at her Bonded. Casabanora went down with her, making certain to land under the woman. Suddenly, the station moved about three or four thousand yards, and stopped shaking. The lights came back on, no longer flickering or sending sparks everywhere. Bits of debries righted themselves, the ceiling panel floating up to re-fuse itself to the ceiling. The panel Skeet had destroyed righted itself, the torn and bitten-through wires fixing themselves.
“What the Hell’s going on?” Michael breathed. Skeet kicked his back by accident, causing Michael to yelp in shock.
“The power from the People’s ships is far greater than the power from the station, Michael,” Casabanora said, almost condescendingly. “It is righting the problems caused by the goblins. All of the goblins, besides the few that have Bonded, have gone back to the Cabanunal and the Lichamere.”
“Thanks,” Michael said, climbing to his feet. Skeet poked his head out from the front of his shirt, giggling softly. Michael absently patted his head. “I hope I wake up soon,” the former chief of security grumbled, stalking off.
:I think we have a problem…: one of the People called throughout Babylon 5.
Celebwen Telcontar: Sorry for the long wait until updating and the short update.
Balrog: What’s the problem?
Celebwen Telcontar: You’ll have to see relatively soon. Please review!
CT
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