That's What Friends Are For

Michael Garibaldi rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He rolled out of bed and got ready for another long day. Another day searching Down Below for his friend, Stephen Franklin.

Stephen had made his home amongst the lurkers trying to help them anyway he could as penitence for some unpardonable sin he had committed in a past life.

Garibaldi sighed as he left his quarters. He knew about unpardonable sins. He had committed a few during his younger years.

Jeffery Sinclair had been there for him, so now Garibaldi would be there for Stephen. That was what friends were for.

Rubbed The Wrong Way

Michael Garibaldi was finishing up a batch of paperwork when his comm went off.

"Garibaldi."

"Michael, I need you to meet and escort Mr. Bester to C and C," John Sheridan requested over the open link.

"You do realize that that is up there with latrine detail?" Garibaldi countered.

"Yes," Sheridan said with a dry chuckle. "An unpleasant yet necessary task. The sooner it's done the sooner we can get back to peace and quiet."

Garibaldi snickered at that. Peace and quiet on Babylon 5 was a pipe dream at best.

&/&/&

"Good morning, Mr. Garibaldi," PsiCop Alfred Bester said in polite greeting. He disliked the fact that mundanes preferred to converse orally rather than mentally.

"Bester," Garibaldi replied in kind. "The Captain is in the C and C, so if you'll follow me."

"Why do you dislike me so, Mr. Garibaldi?"

Garibaldi knew Bester wasn't making polite conversation, but was on a fishing expedition. "I don't dislike you, Bester," he told the PsiCop. "You just don't concern me as much as the Shadows do."

"I see," Bester murmured.

Garibaldi paused in mid-stride. He had had enough of Bester and his PsiCorp nonsense. He turned to face Bester with a hard glint in his eye. "Let's get something straight," he growled. "I may be a 'Mundane', but this is one mundane you really don't want to fuck with."

Bester smiled. He got Garibaldi's message loud and clear.

The journey to C and C was completed in absolute silence.

A Dish Served Cold

Michael Garibaldi was far from being a happy man. As Babylon 5's chief of security, it was his job to maintain the peace on the station. Instead of relaxing in his Spartan quarters, he was pacing this empty stretch of corridor near G'kar's quarters waiting to intercept Londo Malari.

Garibaldi was no stranger when it came to revenge, but there was a time and a place for it. Londo's aide, Vir, had called and informe Garibaldi of Londo's intentions, so now Garibaldi was racking his brains for the words that would convince Londo to set aside his need for vengeance.