From Mmturner@aol.com Sun Aug 4 02:02:32 1996 Date: Sun, 4 Aug 1996 03:41:43 -0400 From: Mmturner@aol.com To: b5-creative@lists.best.com Subject: Language Lessons This is one possible sequel to "Succubus". There is a darker version which I'm working on. Let me know what you think -- Hi This is a sort of sequel to Succubus. Actually there are two, but this is the more light-hearted take. Usual slush warnings, and much thanks to Inga for beta reading. Also to Analise for her suggestions. Usual disclaimers - characters are the property of JMS, PTEN, Warner Bros. Etc. Please send comments and critiques to Mmturner@aol.com Language Lessons by Mary M. Turner "Grounded! What the hell do you mean grounded? I've got a station to run. I've got responsibilities. I've got ---" "Two major holes in your hide. Look Captain, I don't want to do this, but you're running on empty. This has been an extremely stressful week, you've been drugged so that your judgment is impaired, and to top it off, your arm's in a sling and your leg's bandaged. PPG slugs are nothing to fool around with. You're in no shape to run a station." The doctor folded her arms and stepped back, regarding Sheridan calmly. "So I might have to take things kind of slowly. At first. That's no reason to --" Ivanova interrupted. "Captain, right now we're in a lull with the war. It makes sense to take some down time now, and get healthy, so that if things heat up suddenly, you're equipped to deal with them. Besides, don't you trust Garibaldi and me to take care of your command?" "NO. Well, yes, I guess I do. It's just...." The doctor interrupted. "Look at Ambassador Delenn. You don't hear her complaining. She has three more days in the stasis apparatus, before her condition is stabilized sufficiently to allow her to move around. Is she bugging me to let her go negotiate a treaty? No." "Well, the Minbari are more stoic than I am," Sheridan grumbled as he slid off the treatment table, wincing when pain lanced up his leg. "You could learn a lot from the Minbari, Captain." The doctor was smug as Sheridan pulled on his civvies and prepared to return to his cabin. Sheridan winced again. He and Delenn still had a lot to discuss about the past week and he wasn't looking forward to it. He knew he had hurt the Ambassador badly in ways that he didn't even understand. Minbari culture had so many unexpected hazards in their ritual customs that he had trouble sorting out exactly how he had offended her -- beyond the obvious ways, of course. He stopped buttoning his shirt. Perhaps this enforced `rest' was just what he needed to immerse himself in her culture and try to make amends. "I'll do it," he declared. "Do what, Captain?" "Nothing, Susan. Nothing you need to know about. I'll be in my quarters. If you need me for anything - anything at all," he emphasized, "contact me at once. Otherwise I'm going to put in some serious computer time." *************** Nearly twelve hours later, Sheridan sat hunched over the terminal, frowning. He leaned back and rubbed his eyes. Things were not going well. He had downloaded every scrap of information the library system had on the Minbari and their customs and he was no wiser than he had been before. Oh, there were references to a wide variety of rituals, but most of them said "This is merely an overview. Detailed information/applications are unavailable." The most useful thing he had found in his searches was a child's grammar book, and he had been studying it partly with an eye to being able to convey commands to the Minbari crew of the White Star. "Now if I could just find something that would tell me how to say this stuff," he grumbled, printing out the painstakingly compiled list. "Maybe I could ask Lennier..." and then he stood and limped over to the table on which the shattered remnants of his snowglobe still rested. He had been unable to bring himself to discard the poor broken object. He held it for a moment in his good hand and then gently placed it on a nearby shelf. It had been nearly thirty-six hours since he watched Delenn sleep on the treatment gurney. When they moved her back to MedLab, he had slipped away in the hullabaloo over her miraculous escape from death, and he knew that every hour that passed made it harder to return to her side. Despite her reassurances, and despite his own intellectual understanding of the situation, he could not shake the feeling that he had betrayed her with Anna. His wife, Anna. His Shadow wife, Anna. Alive or dead. Escaped from the station, or still lingering in some hidden area, perhaps wounded. The pain in his head was real, brought on by too many hours of staring at pixels capering across a screen, but it was a reminder of the headache-inducing poison Anna had given him. He slammed his fist down on the table, seized the flimsies with his word lists, and raced from the cabin as quickly as his cane would allow. *************** "Come." A low, musical invitation to his impatient chime at the door. Awkwardly, Sheridan maneuvered his way into the private cubicle that had been allotted to Delenn in the VIP section of MedLab. "Hello, John. It is good of you to visit me." "Delenn. How are you feeling?" His heart turned over. She looked impossibly frail, lying there, her dark hair loose on the pillow. "I feel nothing. That seems to be the purpose of this treatment. Please sit down." Sheridan tried to take her hand in his, but the flimsies got in the way, and he cursed as he dropped them to the floor. When he bent to retrieve them, his cane knocked one of the treatment monitors which immediately began to beep, summoning the duty nurse. "Captain Sheridan. What are you doing here this time of night?" she scolded, as she adjusted all the tubes and lines snaking their way under Delenn's light covering. "Why? What time is it?" "It's two in the morning, Captain. You should be in bed." "Oh. Delenn, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you. I lost all track of the time. I better go." He gathered himself to leave. "No. Please do not. Unless, of course, you are tired." She had been so worried. The longer she lay with nothing to occupy her mind, the more she became afraid that Anna had succeeded in at least one of her purposes. Even in her absence she stood between her husband and Delenn. "No. I - uh...I - uhh...." he hovered near the end of her bed. The nurse gave them both a considering look and marched out. "Did you bring something to discuss?" Delenn tried to make a gesture toward the papers still clutched in his good hand, but the stasis unit turned it into a twitch, and a look of intense irritation crossed her features. "Can't you move at all?" "No. And it is very annoying. I cannot read, cannot feed myself, cannot even scratch my nose. And I feel very petty, summoning the nursing staff, for very minor itches." "Here." Sheridan seated himself beside her and reached over to touch her face. "Tell me where, and I'll do the honors." "The - the bridge of my nose. And my left cheek. No. Higher." He scratched lightly, afraid of hurting her, yet reveling in touching her. She held her breath. His fingers caressed her cheek and then moved up to smooth her hair. He whispered. "Delenn, I've missed you." "I, too, have missed you. I thought you were not coming back." "I didn't know if you'd be willing to see me." "I thought we had settled all that." "We did, and as soon as I was alone, everything came flooding back. I guess I can't understand why you'd want to forgive me, much less allow myself to believe that it could be true." His fingers traced the line of her brow, and then followed the delicate bone structure of her chin. He brushed the tip of his index finger over her lips, feather light. Almost involuntarily she kissed it, equally lightly. He hesitated for a moment and then replaced the finger with his lips. The kiss was delicate, uncertain, a promise of the future, an apology for the past. Sheridan longed to hold her tightly, to kiss her into delight, to bind her to him with pleasure, yet he also feared harming her. In the end the awkwardness of the position and the forbidding presence of the treatment bed won out, and he reluctantly pulled back. "No..." she cried and then was still, afraid of how much she had revealed with that one word. "Delenn," he whispered, drawing a shuddering breath. She bit her lip. "Did you ...That is, are those papers for me?" "Y-Yes." Sheridan sat back and reached for the sheaf of flimsies. "I've been doing some research on - on Minbari words. I thought - for the White Star crew. But I can't find -- that is, if you'd pronounce them for me..." he gestured toward the small voicer attached to the top sheet. "Of course. Hold the sheet so that I can see it. Ah. Tre'gentev. That means battle. John, where did you find these words?" "The computer had a grammar. I think it must have been for small children. Most of it was in Minbari, but there were - uh, pictures. I went by them." Once again he reddened. The start of a smile lightened her expression, but seeing how sheepish he was she became very serious. "Ah. Well, you see, on Minbar there are three castes, and each of the castes has their own language. The - the book you have found is for the children of the warrior caste, and most of the crew of The White Star are of the religious caste." "So they wouldn't understand these words?" "They might understand, but they would be very insulted." "Oh. Well that's the last thing I want to do. But this was all I could find in the computer." He smacked his hand on the arm of the chair in frustration. "Perhaps," she suggested tentatively, "you could make a list of commands and I could help you to learn them?" His face lit up. "Delenn! Would you? But I'm sure you have many more important things to do." She looked rueful. "As you say, I am not going anywhere for the next couple of days. It would be a good time." "Okay, how would I say - uhh - `Open a jump point' "? "Mek tur'lmpt biv." "Full power." "Qaave." He threw words at her as fast as he thought of them and she replied as quickly. It was good that he was finally taking an interest in sharing his crew's language. Finally Sheridan stopped her, "Delenn, this can wait. You must be getting tired." "But at least I am doing something. You have no idea how enervating it is to simply lie here with nothing to do. I meditate, but it is difficult." She couldn't tell him that visions of his face increasingly disturbed her concentration. "Could - could I read to you? Do you have a book you'd like me to read? Not in Minbari, of course." He smiled at her. "I would like that very much." She smiled back at him, delighted with his suggestion. "Read to me your favorite book. I know so little about you." "Well, you might not like it. It's not new. In fact, it was written on Earth back in the 1800s. It's called `The Three Musketeers'. I have a copy in my quarters, if you're sure you'd like to take a chance." By the time he returned with the small volume, Delenn had fallen asleep and he left the book beside her as a promise for the future. ************** When he returned the next day he had a full list of words he wanted to learn, and some of them puzzled Delenn. "Beautiful? This is something you say to the crew of a ship?" "Sure. That was a beautiful maneuver." "Oh. Theklar makerin." "That means beautiful?" "No, it means that was a beautiful maneuver." He nodded his head and bit his lip. This was going to be more difficult than he had thought. By the time they had worked their way through the first page of words, Sheridan noticed that Delenn was beginning to tire. "Why don't I read to you for a while," he suggested. "You've been doing all the work. It's my turn." Delenn nodded gratefully, and relaxed as his voice flowed through the small cubicle. It was a strain talking while the rest of her body was in stasis, and the doctor had told her that she was really only supposed to speak when she needed something, `But,' she thought, `I do need something. I need to be with John. And the crew will be pleased when he issues commands in Minbari.' A small portion of her mind followed the adventures of D'Artagnan as he left his home and fell in with the Musketeers, but the larger part concentrated on the texture of the Captain's voice, the warmth in his eyes when he glanced from the page to her face, and his faintly spicy scent. She relaxed, secure in his affection. "If only I could touch him," she thought, and only realized she'd spoken aloud when John paused in his reading. "What did you say, Delenn? Can I get you something?" A faint tide of pink suffused her cheeks, as she tried to shake her head. "No, no, I was, -- I was ....." she didn't know how to finish the sentence. "You're tired. Why don't you rest now, and I'll comeback after lunch." He marked his place in the book, stood and leaned forward to brush his lips over her forehead. She nodded, and watched his tall form limp from the room, leaning heavily on his cane. * * * * * Sheridan was whistling as he rounded the corner to MedLab. He was walking without his cane for the first time, and although he still wore the sling on his injured arm, losing the cane made him feel much healthier. He hit the chime and automatically turned toward the bed when the door cycled open. Then he stopped abruptly. "John, I am over here." Delenn sounded amused as he swung around, almost losing his balance. "You're up," he said, grinning idiotically. "At last. Doctor McFarland says that I can only stay up for a short while today, and if it goes well, then tomorrow I may stay up and the day after, return to my quarters. And you, John. You have abandoned your stick." "I guess we're not such a pair of old crocks after all." "Old crocks?" "It's an earth expression meaning somebody who is past it." "Past it? Your language is so very odd, John. Even when you explain the meaning of a word, you must explain the explanation." "My language! I'll have you know that your own is not without fault. Why, do you know that I was looking something up in that Minbari dictionary you had Lennier get me, and I found that there are 37 words for 'obey' and not one for 'love'." There are 45 ways to say 'duty' and only three to say 'beloved'." "These are words you wish to learn?" "Yes." "You have very odd notions of appropriate commands for a starship. I am afraid that you will confuse the crew a great deal if you call them `beloved'." Sheridan turned an interesting shade of puce and changed the subject. "Do you want me to read some more to you, or do you prefer to read it for yourself now that you are able to sit in a chair.?" "I would prefer that you read to me after they have returned me to the immobilized state this afternoon. If, of course, you are not busy elsewhere." "No. The most pressing engagement on my agenda for today is lunch with the diplomatic representative from Minbar. And dinner with her too. In fact -- " he was interrupted by a chime from his comm link. "Sheridan. Go." "Captain. This is Ivanova. I thought you might like to know. The Vorlon Ambassador has just left the station. He - She has requested a meeting with you when she returns in three days time." "Fine. I'll be there." He turned back to Delenn. "There you are. Breakfast, lunch and dinner with the Minbari Ambassador for the next three days. If she's willing, that is." Delenn looked at him for a moment. "Could you explain to me why humans have such a fondness for sharing meals?" "Oh. Well, if you don't want to...?" "No, no. I would gladly join you for every meal. I just wish to understand." "But you invited me for dinner?" "That was ritual. I have noticed, however, that you routinely eat as many meals as possible with someone - Commander Ivanova, Mr. Garibaldi, even Londo or G'Kar." "I guess we're just a sociable bunch," he shrugged, and smiled at her again. "Did you bring more word lists?" Sheridan sighed. Delenn was relentlessly focused on the business at hand, and he didn't know how to introduce a more personal note. "I'd like to learn how to put sentences together next. For example, if I wanted to say `You are - something', how would I do that?" "You are something? I do not understand." "I mean - uhmmm - for example `You are late' or ..." "Oh, I see. T'vook ra." "Good. How about `very' or `extremely'." She gave him a puzzled look, but dutifully said `narcret' * * * * * The Captain was grinning like an idiot and muttering under his breath when he entered the transit tube. Lennier and Londo Mollari were having a conversation. Lennier leaned over. "Excuse me, Captain, is that Minbari which you are saying?" Sheridan looked abashed. "It's a personal phrase which I wish to say to the Ambassador. She's been helping me learn Minbari. Oh, you know that. She had you obtain that dictionary for me." Lennier continued to look puzzled. "But Captain, I thought you said `t'vook ra narcret theklar." "I did." "You wish to tell the Ambassador she is extremely late for maneuvers?" "No! Hell." Sheridan slumped against his seat. "I thought I put together the perfect Minbari phrase. All right, Lennier, how do you say `You are very beautiful'" "We do not comment on personal appearance, but if you are seeking a compliment you might try `K'ressia ler bousdr'." "What does that mean?" "Your character is good." "Oh. No offense, Lennier, but that wasn't exactly what I had in mind." "I am sorry I am not more help, Captain." The car slowed, and Lennier rose. Bowing to both Sheridan and Mollari, he exited when the doors opened. Mollari leaned forward. "They are a very strange people, the Minbari. You know, Captain, I might be able to help you. I was stationed on Minbar briefly when I was a young man, and I learned several phrases. Try `Re'leec't sha'. The car was slowing for Sheridan's stop. "Re'leec't sha. I can remember that. What does it mean?" "I love you," Mollari said just as the doors opened and Sheridan left. "More or less," he finished with a shrug as they shut behind the Captain. * * * * * Sheridan stood outside Delenn's quarters as nervous as a cadet about to appear at the annual Parade Night at the Academy. "Re'leec't sha," he repeated several times under his breath, while waiting for the door to open. Once inside, he smiled nervously at Delenn. "How does it feel to be back home, Ambassador?" "But I am still on the station, Captain?" "I meant - here," he made a gesture, "out of MedLab." "Oh. I am very pleased, and you are no longer wearing your sling." "Yep." He moved his arm in a windmilling motion. "All patched up. I'm going back on active duty tomorrow, so I guess we'll have to cut back some on our Minbari lessons and the Musketeers." "I shall miss D'Artagnan. He is quite foolhardy. He reminds me in some ways of you, you know. "I always wanted to learn how to fence." "That is not what I meant, John." They were standing very close together and she touched his sleeve and then swiftly drew her hand back. "Come. Sit down. I have prepared tea." John stood in front of the chair she indicated, but did not sit, preferring to follow her with his eyes, as she walked toward the kitchen. She was as graceful as always, but there was a stiffness about her posture that worried him. "Does your back still bother you," he asked. "A little. It will get stronger with time." She picked up the tray and swayed slightly. "Let me get that." He hurried to relieve her of the tea. "Delenn, you should take it easy for a while. What you went through....It still scares me how close I came to losing you....and Ivanova ...I still haven't decided how to punish her for lying to me about your death." "Susan thought she was doing something for the best." "I know. In my head, I know that, but in my heart...." Delenn bit her lip, and deliberately set about the business of serving the tea. John took a sip and then set his cup on the table and leaned forward. "Delenn, there's something I want to say to you. I've been trying to find the words, trying to learn the right thing to say, and I just want to tell you `Re'leec't sha'." He sat back to await her reaction. She stared at him and her cup slipped from her fingers to spill its contents on the rug. "H-How...who told you to say....." She was first, white, then red. "Delenn? What's the matter? What did I say? Are you okay?" Sheridan stared at her in consternation. She took a deep breath. "Surely Lennier did not suggest such a phrase?" "No. It was Londo. I'll kill him. What did I say to you?" She opened her mouth and shut it again, and then tried once more. "It means -- `How much for a night of pleasure' -- only rather more - vulgarly." She flushed again. "It is what one says to the girls who frequent the loocas at the spaceport." "Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn." He struggled out of his chair and began to pace, finally coming to stand beside Delenn. He took her hand in his and drew her up. "I was going to say `t'vook ra narcret theklar', but Lennier said that didn't mean what I thought it did, and he suggested some phrase that said that you had a good character, and you do, but that's not what I wanted to say. Then Londo horned in after Lennier left and...." There was the beginning of a smile on her lips as she studied his appalled expression. "What did you mean to say when you tried to tell me I was late?" Some of the words and phrases he had requested began to make sense to her now. "I wanted to say that you were very beautiful. Delenn, I would never insult you. You have to believe that." "Shhhh." She put her finger on his lips silencing him. "What did Londo tell you that - that phrase meant?" "He - he said it means "I love you.." He slid his arms around her and pulled her close. "I do, Delenn, I love you, but I wanted to say it to you in Minbari." He nuzzled her hair just in front of the bone crest. "Tell me how. Teach me." "T'la lavoth tymik meliv," she whispered against his jacket. "What does that mean," he asked, smiling down at her. "You are the other half of my soul." "That'll do," he said and bent down to kiss her. ###### Mmturner@aol.com -- A main sequence star transforms into a Red Giant - the Red Giant is very hot. The Red Giant goes to the envelope magnitide and after gradual cooling, the end process is a white dwarf. A white dwarf generates no energy inside its core. This whole process can take months and sometimes years.