Don't you just love research?
I had so much fun researching Alexander, and it's fun seeing where your research and mine overlapped.
Here's when Artabazus joined Alexander in my book:

“Who is it?»Alexander stood, all the feline grace back in his stance.
“Artabazus!" cried the sentry.
“Who?" I asked, still flat on my back and incapable of movement.
“Barsine’s father," said Alexander, frowning down at me. “Can’t you get up?”
“No, I hurt too much. I hope he has news of Barsine, I miss her.”
Alexander grinned. "So does the sports committee. But I do hope that Artabazus has decided to change sides.”
“Change sides? Why?”
“He was fighting with Bessus as of yesterday,” he said dryly. “And as there’s only sixty of us left, I’d hate to have to fight just now.”
“And you can count me out. I can just barely move my mouth to talk.”
Alexander looked interested. “Just your mouth? Not your tongue or anything else?”
I stuck my tongue out. “Plexis will be here soon. He was on foot, but not too far behind.”
"Sixty of us plus Plexis, minus you, still leaves a lot less than Artabazus has with him.”
“You’re turning chicken. Why, yesterday you faced down thirty thousand armed men. People will be writing songs about that for centuries. I bet it will become some sort of a legend.”
“I bet you’re right.” He looked immensely pleased with himself. “I did do something rather amazing, didn’t I? I’ll wager that when Artabazus hears about that, he’ll want me to marry all his daughters.”
“And why not the wife as well?»came a booming voice from behind us. Alexander whirled around.
“Artabazus! I didn’t hear you coming!»Alexander drew his sword and held it, a bit nervously I thought.
“I’m waiting for an answer. Will you take the wife as well? Because she’s starting to wear me out.”
Barsine took after her father. He was huge; a giant with a red beard down to his waist and blue eyes like chips of turquoise in his wind-burned face. His hair, liberally streaked with gray, was a fiery blaze around his head. He stood with his hands crossed over his massive chest and didn’t even glance at the sword.
“Artabazus! What are you telling the boy?” A woman appeared. At least I think it was a woman. She was as tall as Artabazus and wore a bronze breastplate that would have made my horse’s knees buckle. “Iskander! Is it true about Darius? Artabazus came to get us two nights ago. We rode as fast as we could. Is he still with Bessus?”
“No,” Alexander replied shortly.
“Oh, that’s a relief! When Artabazus told me that scoundrel Bessus had taken the crown and was going to turn against Darius my...»Her voice died away when she saw Alexander’s expression. “Oh, no, oh no.»She shook her head, swinging her braids from side to side. “Poor foolish man. Where is he?»
Alexander pointed to the still form wrapped in his cloak lying in the deep shade. His expression was stony.
I was still on my back, in the dappled shade beneath an olive tree. I couldn’t see what was happening, but by the way the ground shook, I knew it was either an earthquake or Alexander’s entire army arriving. It was just Artabazus’s tribe, filing by to pay their last respects to Darius.
We camped with them that evening.

They had come down out of the mountains to fight with Darius one last, glorious time against the young king. But Darius had been betrayed by Bessus, and Artabazus had gone to rally his own troops to try and save Darius, alas, too late.
The huge barbarian chieftain sat before the fire gnawing on half a goat. His eyes were sorrowful, and he put the goat down on his lap and leaned towards Alexander. “’T”wasn’t because I had anything against you personally,” he said seriously, “but you understand. My land is caught between that of Darius and that of Bessus. My tribe has guarded the Caspian Gates for generations.”
“Thank you for letting me pass,” said Alexander, a real smile on his face.
“You didn’t think I would stop you, did you?” Artabazus was amazed. “My own daughter’s husband.” He shook his head. “No, ‘twas going to be the best of fights, I’m sure. Darius had it all planned out. Your army caught between two forces, one behind and one in front. But he didn’t plan on treachery.” His face darkened. “Bessus!” He spat, and the men around him all spat as well and growled like savage animals.
“To be sure, I wasn’t too keen on fighting you myself, seeing as half my tribe stayed with you, but we would have worked something out.”
“Maybe some games?” suggested Alexander, his tone sly.
Artabazus laughed like a volcano erupting. “Exactly! Oh, we could have played some good ones." He wiped his eyes, serious again. “Poor Darius. A good man, to be sure, but a foolish one.” He shook his head. “Always spoiling for a fight then running away just when things got tough.”
“I chased him across half the world,” said Alexander dreamily.


I wish I had a time machine so I could go back and really see everyone, but it was fun imagining how it would be.

Thanks for that, Jenny! It always intrigues me to see how other writers handle the same characters. Here is 'my' Artabazus:

“He’s taken the bait!” Memnon said, short of breath. “Mithridates has marched from Dascylium!”
The news galvanized the generals. They spoke all at once, a babble of questions fired at Memnon like a volley of arrows. Artabazus silenced them with a gesture. Before this enterprise began he served his grandfather, King Artaxerxes, as governor of Hellespontine Phrygia — the official name for the collection of Greek and Persian states occupying the extreme western tip of Asia, bordered by the Aegean to the south, the Hellespont and Europe to the west, and Propontis to the north. Well past his fiftieth year, Artabazus should have been ensconced in his seaside palace at Assos, enjoying the fruits of long and loyal service to the king. And so he would have, had his kinsman, Ochus, not come to the throne. The new king wanted Artabazus dead, as much for the influence he wielded among the embattled Greeks of the Asian shore as for the royal blood in his veins. When the order came from Susa for Artabazus to surrender himself to Mithridates of Dascylium, he had no choice but to defy it.
The satrap smiled at the young Rhodian, the weathered skin around his eyes crinkling. “So our little ruse worked. Mithridates believes I am bedridden, too ill to move, and that my army is falling apart. Very good.” Clear-eyed and vigorous, Artabazus wore a saffron-colored chiton beneath a plain Median robe, a combination emblematic of his ability to bridge the disparate cultures of Europe and Asia. He spoke fluent Greek; his cadence and manner of speaking reminded Memnon of his father, though Artabazus possessed a warmth that made Timocrates appear Spartan in comparison. The mercenaries called him Megapatros — Great Father. They respected him; what’s more, he knew it, and went to great lengths to see it reciprocated. “How long ago did he march?”

***

My Artabazus is pieced together from a couple of sources: I use Quintus Curtius Rufus' convention that Artabazus is old -- 95 at his death in 327. Though, my version will be 10 years younger at his death; as for his cadence of speech and manner, I referred back to Xenophon's 'History of My Times' and its portrayal of Artabazus' father, Pharnabazus the Elder. I rarely go to great lengths to physically describe a character, unless they have a trait or deformity that's catching to the eye. Hopefully, the above passage has enough to animate him for a reader's imagination.

I want a time machine, too!

Well it certainly captured my attention! I like how you treat the subject with energy. Artabazus was a crafty old fellow - all the writings about him certainly made it seem he could get out of any mess.
Since the Greeks considered him a barbarian, I made him nice and hairy, lol.
Did you have Barsine marry Alexander? In a couple places I found evidence that he married her and she bore a son, but both disappeared afer his death. Dead or hidden? I wonder.

I don't have Barsine and Alexander married, but she does become his concubine (this is all in the backstory-- how? you'll have to wait and see lol) and bears him a son, called Herakles. I'm at the point in the story now where Barsine is still quite young, and the family is on the brink of annhilation. They will be forced into exile, though the Great King would rather have the whole line extinguished. Several years will pass before she's on-stage again.

I'm gearing up for the first appearance of a young Alexander. I'm using the rather unflattering view of Alex as proposed by Professor Victor Davis Hanson, along with the generally hostile account of him in Diodorus. He's not going to be a nice fellow, even young. I'm anticipating the howls of outrage from Alexandrophiles, but my viewpoint isn't without precedent: the Athenians weren't too fond of him either, and wrote scathing commentaries on him. Since my POV is decidedly Persian, I figured any portrayal of Alexander should reflect their prejudices.

I think Alexander was probably a very charismatic person. I read he and Darius (when not fighting) were friends. The Greeks hated Alexander more than the Persians, I believe. (Despite the fact he certainly kept Greece from becoming a fief of Persia!)
In my opinion, Alexander was just young and brash - full of himself would describe it!
The Persians got a good deal in Seleucos though. (And he was one of Alexander's generals.) He and Apames founded a great dynasty. I would think that Darius and his (rather inblooded) family were pretty much at the end of their reign when Alexander appeared on the scene.

Darius is another figure I'd love to know more of. He certainly got the short end of the stick in the Greek sources. I wonder how much of what we know about him was purely Greek propaganda? A way to lessen Alexander's achievements by making his chief rival into a clown and a buffoon? That sounds particularly Athenian, if you ask me.

I've not gone too deeply into the Diadochi, though as I understand it Seleukos was the only one of Alexander's companions to adopt Persian customs. My favorite, though, has always been Antigonos One-Eyed. He seems cut from the same cloth as Conan of Cimmeria :)