A Matter of Urgancy

By Rebecca Duty

Note; This is based on a sketch done for the cabaret at a convention (Cult TV), so is defiantly non-canon. Also note that an important event at Cult TV was the `Who shot Skippy?' Mystery.

Vir Cotto paced up and down the waiting area of the docking port, rehearsing what he was to say over and over, wringing his hands as he did so.

"Welcome to Babylon 5. No that's not right. Welcome to Babylon 5. No, still wrong. Welcome to Babylon 5..." He was so wrapped up his sheer panic that he didn't notice that Lord Refa and his aide had already arrived. Refa walked over to the younger Centauri and glared at him. Vir jumped slightly and began his welcome speech, "Welcome to Babyl-" "Where is Mollari?" Refa demanded, his accent adding a certain scissor to the words.

"Ahh, he's umm...in the ba... I mean he's ....attending to matters of state," Vir fumbled.

Refa raised an eyebrow, "A matter of some urgency has arisen within the Centaurum, we need Mollari's assistance...and that of his associates." Refa said. Vir's eyes widened in panic as he desperatly tried to cover for the Centauri Ambassadors absence.

Meanwhile, the afore-mentioned Ambassador was heading, or perhaps staggering, towards the docking area. He knew he had to be there, but he couldn't remember exactly why. Accompanying him was a young Centauri dancer. One of her arms coiled around Londo's waist, while she gently raked the elegantly painted nails of her other hand down his front. As always, the ambassador carried a glass of something alcoholic in his free hand. As they neared the docking area, Londo distantly heard his own name being mentioned and looked up to see who was talking about him. Lord Refa and his assistant both had their backs to him, but Vir had a clear view of Londo and his lady companion. The young attaché tried to signal to Londo out of Refa's line of sight while at the same time trying to distract the Centauri lord. It wasn't working too well.

Finally the words `Fetch that drunken fool immedietly!' Penetrated Londo's alcohol-fogged brain. He strieghtened, and tried to shoo off the Centauri dancer at his side, but she merely raised an eyebrow and held out one hand patiently. Londo irritably shoved several credits into the Centauri's girl's palm and waved her off. He then turned back to the now-frantic Vir and the irritated Lord Refa.

"Vir!" He thundered, "why was I not informed that Lord Refa was here?" He demanded, glaring at his attaché. "You have messed things up as usual." He said, shoving the half-full glass of jala into Vir's hand. He then turned to Lord Refa and his silent assistant. "What is it Refa? What is so important that you had to come all this way?"

"A matter of considerable urgency has arisen within the Centaurum. We are in need of your unique resources." Lord Refa replied, holding out one hand toward his assisstant. A scroll carefully tied with gold ribbon appeared from within the aide's coat. Londo took it carefully. Scrolls were used only when the matter was *very* serious. The scroll unrolled once released from it's wrapping and the ambassador's eyes skimmed over the document while Vir strained to peer over Londo's shoulder at the words written there. "Great Maker." Londo breathed. He looked a Refa over the piece of paper in his hands

"So you see the seriousness of our problem." The Centauri lord said.

"Yes," Londo replied, "I will deal with this," He turned to glare at his attache "and with you." He finished.

Refa gave a chilling smile. "I have utmost confidance in you Mollari." He said as he swept off toward the Zocalo. Londo waited until he was out of sight, not willing to take any chances.

"Vir," He said, slowly and carefully, "find Mr Morden and bring him here."

Vir's eyes widened and he gathered up his courage. "Le..Londo don't do this, Please don't."

For a moment Londo looked incredulous then his expression changed to one of thoughtfulness

"...Perhaps you are right," He said finally. Vir blinked. Was Londo *actually* listening to his advice? Londo nodded to himself, seeming to come to a decision.

"Very well, we will do this as it was done in the old Republic. Get me a Technomage."

At first Vir didn't think he had heard correctly.

"A Technomage?" Vir wispered.

"Why are you still here?" Londo demanded, "I told you to get me a Technomage!"

"I'm going! I'm going!" Vir said as he scurried off toward one of the rougher parts of the huge station.

"You just can't get the staff these days." Londo complained to the empty room.

In another part of the station, Vir wandered down a dark corridor. He really didn't want to be there, but he really had little choice, especially if the matter was as serious as Londo and Refa had indicated. Still, Vir's mouth felt as dry as a plate of sand and his hearts were playing a complicated percussion in his chest. He had already arrived at his destination when he realised that he was still holding Londo's half-full glass of jala in one hand. Vir stared at it for a few seconds and downed the contents in one gulp.

Feeling a little better Vir reached out to press the door chime, but before he could reach it, the door swung open. Stepping inside warily he looked around. The only thing in the darkened room he could see was a bipedal shape wrapped in a deep purple cloak. The figure had a hood over it's head and was facing away from him, so Vir had no way of telling either gender or species.

Clearing his throat he began to talk nervously. "I'm Vir Cotto, Diplomatic attache to Amba-"

Before he could even finish, the Technomage interupted him.

"You are Vir Cotto, Diplomatic attache to Ambassador Londo Mollari." The voice became tinged with disdain, "We have heard of Mollari." The Technomage finished, and at last Vir got a look at the person inside the cloak. It was a human woman. Her face was peculiarly ageless, her eyes were piercing, seeming to unwrap his mind layer by layer. Her voice was commanding and powerful, the kind of voice that could command rocks to move with a fair expectation of being obeyed. "Tell Mollari that if he wants to talk he better come here himself." She continued, turning away, her cloak swirling about her. It was clear that the conversation was at an end.

"I'll tell him." Vir said quietly.

Londo waited expectently for the return of his attache and the technomage. Not that he had that much faith that the latter would arrive. He was proved right when Vir arrived at his door, alone. Vir opened his mouth to try and explain, but the older Centauri didn't give him a chance.

"Do I have to do everything myself?" He said exhasperated as he marched out the door and down the corridor. Vir sighed. He was sure that Londo would recieve a splendid funeral.

In the darkened room belonging to the Technomage Londo stood trying to get the Technomage's attention. He drew himself up.

"I should begin by saying that your people are greatly respected by my people. Their accoplishments during the days of the old Republic are held in great esteem."

There was no response.

Londo sighed. "Alright." He said as he produced a bag filled with jingaling coins. "Will five hundred Centauri ducats-" The bag flew out of his hand. Knocked by the crytal-tipped scepter the Technomage held in one hand.

"I will not be bribed Mollari." She said in a cold, imperious tone. She pointed her scepter directly at him, "What do you want with me?" She demanded.

Londo decided then and there that silence could sometimes be a virtue and wordlessly handed over the scroll. The Technomage unrolled it and scanned through it, she then raised an eyebrow and read it again. Raising her head she looked Londo directly in the eye, "Let me get this strieght," She said, her voice holding an odd mixture of disbelief, anger and even amusement, "You wish to know, who shot *Skippy*?".

The End

Written By Judith Proctor and Lesley Rhodes.

Transcribed by Rebecca Duty.

Last changed on 13th of January 2000 -

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