Michael Garibaldi awoke to an irritating, unending alarm. The clock beside his bed told him it was 2am and for a moment he thought he was back in his old, cramped quarters on Babylon 5. That had been the last place anyone had dared to wake him at such an ungodly hour. But the bed he was lying on was almost as large as his entire room on the space station and he was covered with lavish, black silk sheets and wearing pajamas woven by the insectile hands of a Gaim Queen— clothes which would have cost him three years’ salary when he was a Chief of Security. No, he was on Mars, living his new life. Since taking over the day-to-day running of Edgars Industries, Michael Garibaldi had become one of the wealthiest and most powerful men in the galaxy and he had firm expectations that, whatever other benefits the position brought with it, an undisturbed night’s sleep should be right at the top of the list. That had been his old life—woken up at all hours, having to sit in on every decision, manage every little thing.
