Disclaimer: Rights to Babylon 5 are owned by Warner Brothers Television, Babylonian Productions, Inc., the TNT network, and creator/writer/executive producer J. Michael Straczynski. I am making no money from the use of these characters and plotlines. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury, and Scholastic.

Author's Note: Some of you will get your wish, at least partly. Thank you all for coming along for the ride.

Epilogue

Bester experienced a jolt of recognition when he saw the two teens in the raw ISN footage from Babylon 5. Although he didn't think he'd ever seen the pair before, and his telepathy couldn't work through a camera, there was something familiar about them. At his direction, the technician paused on the frame, allowing Bester to study the image at his leisure.

The boy was of middle height and skinny, his black hair sticking up in odd places, and he wore round glasses. The girl was shorter, with a long mane of red hair and scattered freckles across her face. There was nothing particularly remarkable about either of them, except that their clothing didn't quite seem to fit in with that of the people around them.

Aside from that, of course, they were filmed because they were interrupting an interview. Bester used his well-trained mind to think back, and he believed he'd received a mental flash of the girl, at least, on his last trip to the station. One of the things often at the forefront of a person's mind was their own self-image, and it was likely he'd caught that once before being blocked. These might be two of the four strange consciousnesses he'd sensed.

His suspicions seemed to be confirmed when Mr. Garibaldi followed the two kids somewhere. Giving a signal, Bester watched the subsequent conclusion, filmed after Garibaldi had returned. Something had clearly changed, and he needed to know what.

Unfortunately, by the time he managed to get back to the station, the kids were long gone. No one seemed able to tell him how they'd left or where they had gone. All he could really find out for certain was the day they'd vanished. With the command staff uncooperative, as usual, and Lyta blocking his ability whenever he was let out of the brig, Bester knew he was unlikely to find out any more. He was immensely frustrated.

The capstone of his fruitless visit occurred when Mr. Garibaldi paid him a visit. Bester had been preparing to leave when the door opened. He was actually somewhat surprised to find his tool standing there. He was even more surprised to find that he couldn't get a very good grasp on Garibaldi's mind, even though he was sure Lyta was nowhere near. Bester could sense Garibaldi and catch fragments of what he was thinking, but it felt as though his thoughts were somehow slipping past the other man's. He covered for his discomfiture as well as he could.

"I didn't think you were allowed in areas like this anymore," Bester remarked calmly as Garibaldi stepped in and allowed the door to shut behind him.

"I still have friends," Garibaldi shrugged. "Old and new. And I know what you did to my brain." He drew a disruptor. Bester gazed at it without fear, although he paused to wonder whether Garibaldi's nameless "friends" had managed to shut off the security cameras in this room.

"Really, Mr. Garibaldi, do we have to be so dramatic?" he asked, deliberately turning his back to show his unconcern. After all, he'd known that Garibaldi would figure things out eventually. Granted, this was somewhat sooner than he'd expected, but it wouldn't do to admit that. "Did you honestly believe that I would tamper with you without taking steps to protect myself?"

"On the contrary, I know you did." The confidence in Garibaldi's voice brought Bester up short. "You see, some of those new friends I mentioned found your commands and removed them."

"Removed?" Bester's mind was working frantically now. Lyta? He suspected that she was capable, if Garibaldi had managed to convince her to do it.

"Well, maybe removed isn't quite the right word," Garibaldi conceded. "I know what you put there, but it has no effect on me anymore. Pretty useful, actually, since I now know what you were planning to do. More importantly, though, it means I can do anything I want to you." Just as Garibaldi spoke those words, Bester finally got full access to his mind. He searched frantically for his barrier, but it wasn't there. Furthermore, his implanted compulsions were reduced to fragments, ineffectual. The last thing he got was that Garibaldi had no doubts that he could succeed. Bester turned around just in time to see Garibaldi's finger pull the trigger.

Bester froze. Nothing happened.

That was not precisely true, Bester realized when his heart started pumping again. A thin rod now extended out of the muzzle of the disruptor, bearing a flag. On the flag was printed, in large letters, a single word: BANG.

Meanwhile, Garibaldi was doubled over with laughter. He wiped a tear from his eye as he held up the phony disruptor.

"Man, you just can't beat the classics," he declared. "This is great, right?"

"Yes, very amusing, Mr. Garibaldi," Bester said bitterly. He did not find it particularly funny, but he wasn't about to give a mundane the satisfaction of knowing how much he was rattled. That is, if it wasn't already obvious.

"The best part is, it would have worked even if I hadn't fixed the problem you gave me," Garibaldi went on, stowing the rod back inside the false weapon. "Letting you see I was telling the truth before I pulled the trigger was just icing on the cake."

"You could have killed me," commented Bester, still having trouble figuring out why he hadn't.

"Believe me, I thought about that. I was encouraged to reconsider. After all, you might still be useful to Sheridan. Besides, I honestly think your expression a minute ago was better than the satisfaction of killing you. And murder, even of someone as unpopular as you, would lead to all sorts of questions and interrogations that might get in the way of my business. It's not worth the trouble."

Bester wasn't sure what bothered him more – that Garibaldi had found a way around all of Bester's painstaking work or that he didn't consider Bester worth the effort to get rid of. The Psi Cop wanted very much to ask how he'd been cured, but he couldn't bring himself to show that level of weakness.

"So what happens now?" he asked instead.

"I think we're done here," Garibaldi shrugged. "Have a nice life. With any luck at all, I'll never have to see you again." With that, he let himself out. Only after he had left did Bester allow himself to bang on the wall in impotent frustration. All of his plans were going up in smoke.

He shared Garibaldi's hope that they wouldn't meet again, but as recent events had shown, Bester had no luck. None at all.

--

Author's Note: I always wanted Bester to get his comeuppance. The story is done, and I am going to take a break from this world, probably for several months. Although I've always intended to do a third part of the trilogy, I want to make sure I have a clear outline before I start it. I hope you've enjoyed it and that many of you will still be watching when I come back to this.

Review responses:

Samael3: Yes, you bring up many of the points I've been thinking about. The next installment could be understandably epic, which is the reason I want to give myself plenty of time to plot it out.

Andromedanaea: Thanks for the heads up on the name change. That does confuse me sometimes. I'm glad you enjoyed the story.

HarryPotter'sgirl17: Well, men are always more eloquent in prose than in real life, although I do make an effort to make it sound realistic. Ultimately, it's the intent that counts.

rahyne: Well, you got it! I've had this scene in mind for months.

Olaf74: Really, you are too kind. I will let my ideas for the continuation percolate for a while.

Isis the Sphinx: I will be writing, but not in this universe for a while.