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Five-Minute "Eyes"

by PointyHairedJedi

Lennier: Ah, Mr Garibaldi. Shaal Mayan is shortly to visit us again and the Ambassador wishes that she have a security detail this time. Tell me, what is that curious two-wheeled contraption?
Garibaldi: Only the finest performance motorcycle ever created! A real beaut. Or at least it will be when it's not in bits all over my quarters.
Lennier: I have read of this phenomena in my study of Earth history. Often, in order to compensate for sexual inadequacy --
Garibaldi: Ahem. Oh, there goes my link. (Phew.)

Ben Zayn: And what do you think of this Ivanova?
Gray: She's hot. Uh, I mean, I don't see why we need to include her in this.
Ben Zayn: Well I do! I'm in charge around here, or at least, I soon will be... Muahahahahahah!
Gray: I do wish you wouldn't keep doing that. It gives me the frighteners.

Sinclair: EarthForce is concerned that arms could be shipped to extremists on Mars. We're to monitor all shipments that come through B5's jurisdiction.
Garibaldi: Sure. I'll keep an eye on the legs and torsos too while I'm at it.
Ivanova: Those Free Mars radicals are really causing problems, huh?
Sinclair: Apparently so. There's particular concern about them trying to steal electron weaponry.
Ivanova: That really is shocking, sir.

Garibaldi: There's a fella called Aaron Franks asking people a lot of odd questions about you, Commander.
Sinclair: I told you, Michael, that money was just resting in my account! I was going to move it back, I swear.
Garibaldi: Sure you were. Anyway, Franks is here with another man named Harriman Gray. They seem to be legit, but on the off chance they're arms smugglers....
Sinclair: Have a chat with Franks then. Just... don't mention the money, okay?

Garibaldi: Is Franks here?
Gray: If you're implying that we've both been sent by Internal Affairs to investigate the command staff, I can assure you that you're completely wrong!
Ben Zayn: (enters) Mr. Garibaldi, I was wondering how long it would take you to turn up. I'm Colonel Ari Ben Zayn from --
Garibaldi: Internal Affairs. Your friend here doesn't seem like he's very suited for undercover work.
Gray: I'll have you know I'm a man of many faces!

Ben Zayn: With all the Mars stuff happening, and Eyes being the nasty suspicious types that we are, I've been sent to assess your loyalty with telepathic scans. The regulations are quite clear. You have no choice in this matter.
Ivanova: Must... control... Fist... of... Death!
Sinclair: Now Susan, let's not be, hrooom, hasty. I'll double check the regs. I'm sure there will be some way around it, one that doesn't involve poking around in our fiscal affairs. (cough)
Ben Zayn: I shall also require the services of your Security Chief. I happen to be a fan of the "speak loudly and carry a big stick" way of doing things.
Garibaldi: Hey, I'll have you know that sometimes I'm a real teddy.

Ben Zayn: I think we'll get along just fine, Garibaldi.
Garibaldi: Yeah, you can be the Marvin to my Duck Dodgers.
Ben Zayn: What? Actually, never mind. Just have the files of all station personnel for me by tonight. (Leaves)
Lennier: Ah, I've been looking for you! I think I can work on your bike, if you'll let me.
Garibaldi: Why are you suddenly so into this anyway?
Lennier: I figured, as it's seen as a symbol of masculinity --
Garibaldi: That women will then be attracted to you?
Lennier: No, just the one. (sigh)

Gray: Lieutenant Commander, I understand why you feel like you do about the Corps, really I do. Can't you see I have empathy, and sympathy, and all those other good -pathies?
Ivanova: Sure. And I have a five-mile long space station with which I will personally beat you around the the head with if you even so much think about scanning me.
Gray: (to self) She is.... magnificent.

Garibaldi: He wants to see you at 1200 hours. And Jeff -- watch yourself. It's starting to look like someone's trying to depose you.
Sinclair: Don't worry, Michael. The only way I'm going to leave this position is if there were some sort of shadowy conspiracy among the higher-ups to boot me out, and how likely do you think that is?

Ivanova: Dry ice fog? The Chicago Cubs winning the World Series? I must be dreaming!
Sofie Ivanova: Yes yes, it's a visual metaphor of the fact that you blame the Psi Corps for my death. All very interesting, I'm sure.
Gray: You look very fetching in that nightie, Lieutenant Commander. Oh no, not the space-station... GAK!
Ivanova: Waaaah, what a horrible nightmare! Though the last bit was quite good, I suppose.

Ivanova: Commander, I'm resigning. I will not let myself be scanned, and this seems to be the only way to avoid it.
Sinclair: Now hang on Susan, let's be reasonable about this.
Ivanova: I am being reasonable! If I were being unreasonable then everyone with a Psi Corps badge who walked through the station airlock would go right back out it again without the benefit of a spacesuit.
Sinclair: Be that as it may, it's not necessary for you to quit. I found a loophole that means you can't be forced to have a scan, and I promise it doesn't involve sticking two pencils up your nose and wearing underpants on your head.
Ivanova: That's good, sir. Means I won't have to break your arm like last time.

Ben Zayn: I need to know everything about him. Everything, d'you hear? Especially anything about his fiscal dealings. There have been some very interesting rumours.
Gray: But I couldn't possibly --
Ben Zayn: Mr. Bester expects every telepath to do his duty, Gray!
Gray: Does this means I'm going to have to kiss you? Whatever I'm being paid, it just isn't enough.

Ben Zayn: Ah, Commander, there you are. Be a good chap and sit down, won't you?
Sinclair: Not while Gray is here. I checked the law very carefully, and scans are only compulsory when charges have been brought.
Ben Zayn: If you're going to be a party-pooper then so be it. Let us start at the very beginning then, with your actions during the "Big Bang" incident...

Ivanova: Shouldn't you be scanning someone right about now?
Gray: No, it seems Sinclair knows the law very well -- he managed to find a loophole. He's a good chap, not like the Colonel, that mother--
Ivanova: You're just angling for a space-station-induced concussion it seems. Don't ever mention my mother again, got it?

Ben Zayn: ...And so you allocated 1.3 million credits from the military budget to settle an illegal exotic dancers strike. That doesn't seem very responsible to me!
Sinclair: It was either that or risk a major diplomatic incident with Ambassador Mollari. Look, I --
Ivanova: (over BabCom) Commander, we need you up here. It concerns the arms shipping.
Ben Zayn: He's not going anywhere. In fact, I'm taking over this station now. Article 47 states that a commander may be removed from his post by a superior officer if he is deemed to be getting in the way of said officers' ambitions. It's mine now, all mine! Mwaahahaahahahaahhahahah!
Garibaldi: You're dethpicable.

Ben Zayn: I'm in charge now, I'm the boss, and don't you forget it! Right, buzz off now, I'm done speechifying.
Ivanova: How very inspirational. Garibaldi, what the heck is going on?
Garibaldi: Marvin is a megalomaniac. Who knew?
Ben Zayn: Ah, Lieutenant Commander. Guess who's coming to Blue 8 at 1500 so that they can be telepathically scanned?
Ivanova: I won't do it, even if it means a dishonourable discharge.
Garibaldi: I had one of those once. Really nasty. Didn't clear up for a whole three weeks.
Ivanova: ...Yeah. I'll be in the casino getting tired and emotional if you want me.

General: (over BabCom) I sympathise Jeff, I really do, but our hands are tied. The secretarial staff are all on vacation, and we can't even figure out how to use the staplers, let alone the phone system. You understand how it is.
Sinclair: "I'm washing my hair" would have been perfectly acceptable too, you know.

Gambler: Hey, check out the chick in the uniform! So, how about it, eh?
Ivanova: Hmmm, let me think that one over...
Gambler: What are you -- OH GOD, THE PAIN!

Garibaldi: Guess what? Ben Zayn was in line for the command of B5, and it turns out you both have a mutual acquaintance, a no-good nuclear weasel by the name of Bes--
Sinclair: Bester! But why would he cling on to the death of his partner like this? It's not like I went and killed his son. You know Michael, I think I have an idea...
Officer: (over BabCom) Chief, we've got a problem at the casino.
Garibaldi: Aaaand that would be Ivanova. Have my riot gear waiting for me, okay?

Ben Zayn: Oh look, the gang's all here. Harriman, you may begin when ready.
Sinclair: Make sure you get a good look inside your boss's head too, Gray, so you can see what a big damn chicken he is.
Ben Zayn: Me, chicken? I led men into countless valleys of death to fight and die! Not like you, oh no -- if not for those Minbari you wouldn't have been made the commander of B5 in the first place. It's rightfully mine and I won't give it up to a liar like you!
Gray: It's you whose pants are really on fire, Colonel. Bananaphone!
Ben Zayn: Bananaphone? But... it's the best... beats the rest.... Yeaaaagh! Get it out of my head!
Sinclair: (THWACK)
Garibaldi: Damn but that was fun to watch. Can we do it again sir, huh? Can we?

Lennier: Ta da!
Garibaldi: You finished it? But I wanted to finish it! That was the whole point!
Lennier: You have my most humble apologies. I will at once use this crowbar to dismantle it so that you may begin again from the very start.
Garibaldi: ...Eh, I can live with it. Want to go for a spin?

Ivanova: I'm a little concerned about the effect on Gray's career after all this.
Sinclair: I wouldn't worry -- the record clearly shows that Ben Zayn is a nut, and I'm sure a further scan will confirm that he's crazy in the coconut. Especially now that he's got that Bananaphone song stuck in his head.
Ivanova: And Bester?
Sinclair: I think that we'll meet again. But I don't know where, don't know when...
Garibaldi: (speeds past on bike) Yeeee-haaaaah!
Ivanova: I am never, ever, touching scumble again.
(Garibaldi and Lennier do a wheelie in the stars at Ludicrous Speed)


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This fiver was originally published on February 2, 2006.

DISCLAIMER: A lot of stuff in here is copyrighted by Babylonian Productions. I doubt they'll mind, but if they do, I'll just sic Alexander the Great on 'em.

All material © 2006, PointyHairedJedi.