From SLV80@aol.com Sun Aug 4 01:56:08 1996 Date: Mon, 29 Jul 1996 15:36:57 -0400 From: SLV80@aol.com To: b5-creative@lists.best.com Subject: "Loyalties and Destinies", part 1 Hi everyone! This is my first attempt at writing a B5 story, and it needs work big time, but here goes anyway! This is set after "Ship of Tears" but before "Interludes and Examinations." Loyalties and Destinies The war room was quiet as Delenn entered, only the soft shuffle of feet and the occasional mechanical noise of the computers breaking the silence. At the table in the center of the room sat a lone Narn woman. She was small for a Narn, only a little bigger than Delenn. She was dressed in rags and her head was down on the table. Delenn approached quietly, not wishing to wake her. G^Òkar had said only that there was someone waiting for her, but had not said who or why, and Delenn was uncertain of how to proceed. She sat down next to the Narn, intending to wait until she awoke. The woman lifted her head; she had not been sleeping after all. Delenn smiled at her bewildered expression, attempting to be reassuring. The Narn was younger than she had first guessed, no older than eighteen. She looked around cautiously, assessing her surroundings, then turning back to Delenn. She smiled back tentatively. ^ÓI^Òm sorry, I have been ill - I don^Òt remember coming here,^Ô she apologized. ^ÓThe last I remember I was aboard a ship, a stolen Centuari vessel, we were coming to a station, Babylon 5, we had been offered sanctuary - we didn^Òt have much in the way of supplies, I think the food had spoiled, and there was a fever spreading through the crew - I don^Òt know what happened after that, but I suppose I fell ill. I was supposed to meet with Ambassador -^Ô she stopped, Delenn saw a brief flash of anger through the confusion on her face, quickly stifled ^Ó- Citizen G^Òkar. Do you know where I could find him?^Ô ^ÓYou reached Babylon 5,^Ô Delenn informed her reassuringly. ^ÓG^Òkar is aware of your presence, he sent me to meet you. I was hoping you would know why.^Ô ^ÓI - wait,^Ô she said, peering intently at Delenn. ^ÓYou are the Minbari ambassador, are you not?^Ô ^ÓYes,^Ô she replied. ^ÓThen I do know,^Ô she said, and sighed, ^Óthough I wish he had not. I no longer have the authority to contradict him - he has told you, I suppose, who I am?^Ô ^ÓNo, he did not,^Ô Delenn said. The girl put her head back down on the table, covering her head with her hands as if she wanted desperately for everything about her to vanish, wished that the universe would allow her just a few moments of peace. Delenn knew the feeling very well. ^ÓPerhaps this is not a good time,^Ô she said tactfully. ^ÓYou are in need of rest -^Ô ^ÓNo,^Ô the girl replied without lifting her head, neither angrily nor sadly, but utterly without emotion, simply stating a fact. ^ÓI will rest when all this is over, or I will rest in the grave, but I may not rest before then.^Ô Then she lifted her head to look directly at Delenn, and what she saw in her eyes was almost frightening, such pride mingled with such desperation, and both overshadowed by the sure knowledge that both were useless. ^ÓI am Ti^ÒNar, of the Inner Circle,^Ô she announced. Delenn blinked in shock, but allowed herself no other reaction; very likely most of the men and women moving silently about the war room had no notion of what they had just heard, and would not think to mention it; strange visitors coming and going were commonplace. But something that had managed to shock the Minbari ambassador would quickly become the gossip of the station. ^ÓYou understand what this means,^Ô Ti^ÒNar said, halfway between a statement and a question. ^ÓYes,^Ô replied Delenn, her mind still reeling. The Centuari had executed all high-ranking Narns, how in the universe had this girl managed to escape? ^ÓYes, I know what this means.^Ô The Inner Circle were the Narn equivalent of royalty. To the Narn, it would mean hope, and pride, yet another reason to keep fighting. Now she knew why G^Òkar had not told her who she would be meeting; to utter the name out loud would be to endanger her life. How great a blow would it be to the Centuari, to the Shadows, that this one girl had managed to live? How much of what they had built up was held together by fear, by their image of invincibility? But to do any good at all, it must be public knowledge that Ti^ÒNar lived, and to this purpose she must be kept safe, hidden away somewhere that Centuari assassins could not reach her. ^ÓYou wish to ask for sanctuary on Minbar,^Ô Delenn stated. ^ÓThat is G^Òkar^Òs design, that I should be hidden away and safe, an inspiration for all Narns, a blight to all Centuari,^Ô she said, more than a hint of bitterness evident in her voice. She was speaking quietly, so as not to attract undo attention, yet fiercely, almost hissing the words. ^ÓBut this is not what you desire?^Ô Delenn asked. ^ÓI could do so much more,^Ô she said bluntly, yet almost wistfully. ^ÓHe wants to put me in a glass case for everyone to admire, while my people are dying.^Ô ^ÓBut you must understand what it will mean to them, that one of the Inner Circle lives,^Ô Delenn said gently. ^ÓYou will give them back their pride.^Ô ^ÓWhat good is pride to the dead?^Ô she asked bitterly. For a moment Delenn was struck speechless; pride was everything to the Narn. ^ÓThey must have a reason to keep fighting, they must know that all is not lost -^Ô ^ÓThen they can find a mirror to look into, they are just as alive as I am. Is that not a Minbari belief? That all life is sacred?" she said angrily, almost accusing. "I do not see why my life should be so much more important. The Inner Circle is gone, Narn has fallen, and to set me up as a figurehead is denial, not pride. I am just another refugee, nothing more. We must begin again, not cling to the past.^Ô Delenn didn^Òt know what to say to that; she could not help but agree with the fierce young woman sitting before her, yet she knew that the universe did not work that way. The past did not vanish, and in the eyes of a universe in turmoil, all life was not equal. *It is not right, but it is, we must live within what is, not what should be.* ^ÓYou needn^Òt bother arguing with me,^Ô said Ti^ÒNar, her anger suddenly vanishing, and with it her strength. ^ÓG^Òkar has ordered it, and I will not disobey him. It would be hypocritical of me to say my title means nothing, yet expect to keep my authority, yes? I will go to Minbar, and sit in my glass case while the galaxy burns, because he has made that my duty, whether I see it as such or not.^Ô *Understanding is not required, only obedience*, Delenn thought. *She understands. Yet she is sick in her soul. Perhaps Minbar will do her good*, she mused, and with that thought came a stab of homesickness. *But I have a duty too.* Odd how much their situations were the same, and yet how different. ^ÓAh, Delenn!^Ô called G^Òkar^Òs voice from the top of the stairs. He strode purposefully down to the table, his hands clasped in front of him, looking at Delenn and then at Ti^ÒNar. ^ÓYou have - discussed things?^Ô he asked. ^ÓConsidering that your hearing is quite adequate, and you have been standing at the top of the stairs for the past several minutes,^Ô Ti^ÒNar stated bluntly. ^ÓI suspect you already know that I have agreed.^Ô Delenn blinked, yet again taken aback - G^Òkar had been listening? She should have been paying more attention. G^Òkar ignore Ti^ÒNar - *so he does not feel much reverence for this girl, he only means to use her. Cruel, but necessary, and he knows both - he has learned much.* - and addressed Delenn. ^ÓHow soon can she leave the station?^Ô he asked. ^ÓThere are several Centuari assassins searching for her even now, and it is imperative that she be taken to safety as soon as possible. ^ÓThere is a Minbari transport leaving two days from now,^Ô Delenn replied. G^Òkar looked ill pleased. ^ÓThere is nothing leaving sooner?^Ô ^ÓI^Òm sorry, no,^Ô she said. ^ÓIf the docking schedule were altered, it would attract attention, and that cannot be. Two days, that is the best I can do. Surely she can be hidden for that long?^Ô ^ÓShe will be impossible to hide!^Ô he exploded. ^ÓLook at her - do you think I could just slip her into Downbelow?^Ô Delenn did look at Ti^ÒNar, who was staring daggers at G^Òkar, her red eyes looking like little bits fire. She was dressed in filthy rags, obviously tired, ill, underfed - and she still looked like a queen. Delenn sighed. ^ÓNo, I suppose not. One of the local Narns, perhaps -^Ô G^Òkar was shaking his head, lips pressed together with exasperation. ^ÓNo, no, no, no!^Ô he was practically shouting. Delenn looked nervously about her; the people who had been staring suddenly found important things to occupy their attention. ^ÓDon^Òt you see?^Ô G^Òkar was ranting. ^ÓHer presence would create such turmoil as you cannot imagine - that is the whole purpose of all this! But her existence cannot be revealed prematurely!^Ô ^ÓThen none of the local Narn know that she is here?^Ô Delenn said in surprise. She would not have thought that it would be possible to smuggle her onto the station unnoticed - every time a new batch of refugees came through, the docking bays were fairly jammed full of Narns from the station, searching hopefully for family, friends, any familiar face. Ti^ÒNar was the type of person who would stand out in a crowd of a thousand - surely she would not have gone unnoticed? ^ÓShe was brought in with the cargo,^Ô G^Òkar explained, answering her unspoken question. ^ÓYou ought to speak to the captain - the guards at the docking bays are all too easy to bribe,^Ô he said with a trace of dry humor. Delenn was not amused. ^ÓYou see now, she must be taken off the station immediately, there is no other choice,^Ô G^Òkar said as if he had proven his point beyond argument. ^ÓG^Òkar, that cannot be,^Ô Delenn said firmly. ^ÓBut -^Ô he sputtered. ^ÓHowever,^Ô Delenn continued, ignoring his outraged protests, ^ÓI believe I have a solution to at least part of the problem. She will stay with me.^Ô ^ÓWith you?^Ô said G^Òkar, startled. ^ÓIt is the last place anyone would think to look,^Ô she explained. ^ÓShe^Òs right,^Ô said Ti^ÒNar, speaking for the first time since the argument began. ^ÓIf I didn^Òt leave her quarters, I would be safe. And the ambassadorial wing is one of the most heavily guarded on the station.^Ô G^Òkar said nothing for a few tense seconds. Then he nodded decisively. ^ÓYes,^Ô he said. ^ÓYes, that will suffice, I suppose.^Ô He looked about the war room, as if just now noticing the many people working all around them. Delenn sighed. Subtlety had never been his strength. She had thought he had lost some of his arrogance since joining the war council, but what was that human saying? Old habits die hard. The past few minutes had proven that. ^ÓThey are trustworthy,^Ô Delenn said. *I hope, anyway.* She did not like so many people knowing such a fragile secret, but it could not be helped. *Done is done. Foolish arrogance, but it cannot be helped. I thought he had changed, but perhaps not so very much after all.* ^ÓOf course,^Ô he said, dismissing it with a wave of his hand. Ti^ÒNar snorted rather indelicately. ^ÓI will leave now, then, if this is settled. I am leaving this in your hands, Delenn - we will not speak of this again until she is safely docked on Minbar.^Ô And then he left, practically marching out. Ti^ÒNar was softly chuckling. Delenn turned to look at her, confused. The situation was hardly humorous. ^ÓHis face -^Ô Ti^ÒNar explained. ^Ó- was priceless. I do not believe I have ever seen him quite so stunned. He is quite used to being right, quite unaccustomed to being contradicted.^Ô Delenn was suddenly struck by how young this girl was - maybe not eighteen after all, more like fifteen - illness and anger had made her look older. ^ÓWell,^Ô Ti^ÒNar said, pulling up her ragged hood so that her face was hidden. ^ÓWe should be going.^Ô Delenn nodded, feeling off balance again now that G^Òkar had left - arrogance and presumption she could handle, but this girl was too unpredictable, a combination of a war-hardened soldier and an artless child. Delenn motioned for Ti^ÒNar to follow her out of the war room. Once they had left, the room returned to near absolute silence, the soft shuffle of feet and the mechanical clicking of the computers. Then someone gave a relieved sigh. Someone else chuckled in response. A soft buzz of hushed conversation filled up the room. Everything settled slowly back to normal. No one noticed the tiny black device, no larger than a fingernail, that clung to the underside of the stairs. One of the techs knew it was there, but she forced its image from her mind. She needed the money, that was all, nothing personal. She joked with the rest, pretending she was as confused as any of them. About an hour later she found an excuse to leave the room. As she left she brushed her hand under the stairway, grabbing the small recorder. She fingered it guiltily as she walked down the hall, then deposited it where she had been instructed to leave it, in a planter just outside the Zocalo. Then she turned around, resisting the temptation to wait for the man who would come to pick it up. The credits would be transferred to her account within the hour, and then she would have the funds to leave for earth, as she had wanted to do months ago, but had lacked the credit. In an hour, it would be over, and her life would move on. She refused to think that, because of her, another^Òs life would be over. to be continued . . . . Comments and suggestions would be greatly appreciated! :) From SLV80@aol.com Sun Aug 18 20:46:53 1996 Date: Fri, 9 Aug 1996 15:30:46 -0400 From: SLV80@aol.com To: b5-creative@lists.best.com Subject: "Loyalties and Destinies," part 2 Hello all! I^Òm posting parts two and three at the same time, because two kind of drags and three has all the action. Sorry for the wait, I^Òve been on vacation. Standard disclaimers, blah, blah, blah, and here goes part two! - Lynne Loyalties and Destinies, part 2 ^ÓVIR!^Ô Vir winced, then scurried into the other room. Ambassador Mollari was obviously not well pleased with something he had done - *now isn^Òt that surprising* - but at least he didn^Òt sound drunk. Not too drunk, anyway. ^ÓYes, Ambassador?^Ô Vir asked politely. Londo was standing behind the counter, waving a sword around like some kind of maniac, invoking curses from nearly every diety Vir had ever heard of and a few he hadn^Òt. The insects again. ^ÓVir, I thought I told you to fetch someone from maintaince,^Ô the Ambassador said, in the kind of half accusatory half questioning tone one would use to address a naughty five-year-old. Inwardly, Vir grimaced, but his face remained plastered over with a rather unintelligent smile. *Yes, you did,* Vir thought. *You also asked me to fetch you two cases of Earth-brewed scotch, a new pair of boots, and some hair gel. And a month ago I was the ambassador to Minbar.* And yet Vir felt sorry for Londo, caught between greatness and utter pitiful ridiculousness, and sunk so deep in shadows Vir sometime wondered if he was really even himself anymore. ^ÓThey were very busy,^Ô he said apologetically, as if the overworked maintainance crew was entirely his responsibility. Half of him was furious that Londo expected the whole universe to conform to his whim, while the other half was eager to please, almost protective. Too much had happened too quickly, too many secrets, too many shadows. In just the past few days, it seemed as if the universe had been turned on its head. Ranting over nothing was just Londo^Òs way of dealing with it. ^ÓThey assured me that someone would be here within one standard hour.^Ô ^ÓAnd Vir, how long ago was that?^Ô ^ÓThey were really very busy^Ô - *and probably have considerably more important things to do* - ^Óit hasn^Òt really been very long -^Ô ^ÓThree standard hours, at least!^Ô Londo hollered. ^ÓI tell you, Vir, this whole station has gone to hell! Three hours!^Ô He was gesturing wildly with the sword - *couldn^Òt he have bought a flyswatter?* - and knocked a crystal goblet off the counter. Vir winced as it hit the floor and shattered, but Londo didn^Òt seem to notice. ^ÓThis is outrageous,^Ô he ranted. ^ÓHow do they expect me to work, with that thing buzzing about! Madness!^Ô Then he sighed, as if he suffered undersome enormous burden. ^ÓVir, I am going to get a drink. I want you to go back down to maintainace, and this time, Vir, do not leave without someone to get rid of this thing! And while you^Òre at it, I want another pair of boots. The last ones didn^Òt fit right. Nothing on this damned station fits right! Utter madness!^Ô He began to storm out of the room, then remembered he was holding the sword. He looked at it oddly, as if surprised to see it in his hand. As he walked back to slide it into its sheath on the wall, he stepped on the shards of the crystal goblet. He looked down disgustedly, brushing bits lavender crystal off his boots. ^ÓAnd clean this up, will you, Vir?^Ô he asked almost mildly, before vanishing out the door, leaving Vir speachless. He watched as a small brown insect landed on the counter, fluttering its translucent wings in apparent relief. ^ÓAnother pair of boots,^Ô Vir complained to the small six-legged creature. It rubbed its two front appendaged together, as if washing its tiny hands. ^ÓExactly,^Ô said Vir. Then he scooped the small creature up in his hands while it buzzed madly, trying to escape. He pushed aside elaborate curtains to open up the large window on the far wall, and released the furious creature out into the garden. It hovered disorientedly for a few seconds, then buzzed contentedly away. Vir watched it until it had dissappeared into the distance. ^ÓExactly,^Ô he said again. Then he found a dustpan and brush, and bent to sweep up the remains of the ruined goblet. Ti^ÒNar followed the Minbari ambassador closely, afraid of getting lost in the maze-like network of corridors between the war room and green sector. She could not see very well from underneath her ragged hood, and she was still feeling a little dizzy and disoriented. The slight change of gravity in the turbolift had made her feel like her stomach was going to empty itself, except there wasn^Òt anything in it to begin with. She had had to stand casually opposite the ambassador, pretending they had never seen each other before in their lives, for the benefit of the technician who had shared the lift with them. They were now weaving through the most diverse crowd she had ever seen, in a part of the station that Delenn had told her was called the Zocalo. The vast throng of people gave Ti^ÒNar a sense of security, a feeling of anonymity, but the swirl of sounds and smells were making her head ache. She wondered what Minbar would be like. Very different from Narn, certainly. Her mind called up small academic details, that the sun was brighter, and there were fewer extremes of temperature, though the planet as a whole would be colder than Narn. She recalled vids of buildings, whole cites, made of crystal, shimmering with bright pastel colors in the intense sun. So very different from the warm red glare of Narn^Òs sun, the dark stone buildings, the boiling days and frigid nights. ^ÓHello Delenn,^Ô said a voice ahead. The ambassador had stopped, turned to speak to a human man in a black uniform. Ti^ÒNar felt a brief surge of panic, wanted to run but knew that she would never find her way back here. She caught the ambassador^Òs eye briefly, and Delenn gave a slight nod towards a booth to her right. Ti^ÒNar looked - the proprietor was asleep. Ti^ÒNar understood; she pulled her hood down a little further and wandered over towards the booth, pretending she was examining the wares. *Don^Òt look at me, don^Òt notice me, I^Òm just another customer, please, please, don^Òt look at me,* she thought at the uniformed man. ^ÓHello, John,^Ô said Delenn. *Make this quick,* Ti^ÒNar thought at the ambassador. Whoever this John was, he was looking in Ti^ÒNar^Òs direction. *Damn, he saw me - oh no, don^Òt look at me!* ^ÓWho -^Ô he began, but Delenn urgently shook her head. He arched an eyebrow questioningly, but he didn^Òt inquire further. ^ÓWe should talk,^Ô she said. ^ÓBut not here.^Ô ^ÓYes, well, actually, that^Òs why I was looking for you,^Ô he said, studying his boots for a few seconds before looking back up at Delenn. ^ÓThings have been so hectic lately, we haven^Òt gotten much of a chance to just talk. So, I was wondering if you would like to join me for dinner tonight.^Ô *Huh?* Ti^ÒNar thought. *Dinner? I think I really missed something.* ^ÓUm, dinner,^Ô Delenn said, throwing a quick glance over her shoulder in Ti^ÒNar^Òs direction. ^ÓI would love to, but tonight really isn^Òt a good time. Something has just come up.^Ô ^ÓSomething always does, doesn^Òt it?^Ô he said, smiling regretfully. He then glanced pointedly at Ti^ÒNar, his smile being replaced by a look of concern. ^ÓIs anything wrong?^Ô ^ÓNo, everything is fine,^Ô Delenn assured him. ^ÓI can^Òt explain, not here.^Ô He frowned. ^ÓYou^Òre sure everything^Òs all right?^Ô he said, brows furrowing with worry and confusion. Delenn smiled reasuringly. He was acting almost protective of her. Odd. ^ÓEverything is fine, John,^Ô she said. ^ÓJust a . . detail I must work out with my government. Nothing you need to be concerned with.^Ô He didn^Òt look convinced. Ti^ÒNar could tell he didn^Òt like being kept in the dark any more than Delenn liked keeping secrets from him. Odd, that. She had the feeling that about half of what was happening was going right over her head. ^ÓWell, if you^Òre sure everything is okay, then I guess I^Òll see you in -^Ô he looked down at his link, which evidently served as a watch ^Ó- half an hour.^Ô He smiled, but he looked defeated. Then he saw her puzzled expression, for a moment looked equally puzzled, then grimaced. ^ÓOh, I forgot to tell you,^Ô he said, smacking his forehead with his palm. ^ÓThere^Òs a meeting of the War Council at seventeen hundred hours. Do you think you^Òll be able to make it?^Ô ^ÓYes, I think I will,^Ô said Delenn, again looking anxiously at Ti^ÒNar. She drifted over to another booth, picking up a necklace and examining it. He had obviously seen the ambassador watching her, but the rest of the station^Òs population hadn^Òt, so she did her best to keep up the pretense. John was looking more and more frustrated the clearer it became that she wasn^Òt going to tell him what was going on.^ÓThankyou for letting me know,^Ô Delenn said, just a trifle less warmly than a moment before. Warning. ^ÓWell, Susan told me she had tried to get ahold of you, but you weren^Òt in your quarters, so she told Lennier. I wasn^Òt sure you had gotten the message, so I came looking for you. One of the techs in the war room said you had headed off in this direction.^Ô It wasn^Òt quite a question, but it might as well have been. Delenn^Òs eyes narrowed, but she looked more distressed than angry. ^ÓI have been very busy,^Ô Delenn said. ^ÓThankyou for your consideration.^Ô Very cool, polite, professional. John was looking decided unhappy. ^ÓWe will talk then, I suppose,^Ô he said, grudgingly acknowledging defeat. ^ÓYes,^Ô said Delenn, smiling politely. ^ÓGood day, Captain.^Ô *Captain?* Ti^ÒNar thought, *that was the Captian?* The Ambassador was walking away, and Ti^ÒNar casaully drifted in the same direction, waiting until she could no longer see the Captain to rejoin the Ambassador. ^ÓI don^Òt like this,^Ô Delenn said, frowning. ^ÓHe saw you, he knew that I wasn^Òt telling him everything.^Ô Ti^ÒNar said nothing. The ambassador had set a much brisker pace, and didn^Òt seem to notice that she was having a hard time keeping up. Her head was swimming again, little lights dancing in front of her eyes. ^ÓHe is trustworthy, of course,^Ô Delenn was saying, almost to herself, ^Óbut he will want to know what is going on, and if he asks the wrong questions, in front of the wrong people . . .he would not intentionally create a problem, but now he might out of ignorance.^Ô They had made their way out of the Zocalo and were now walking down a far less crowded corridor. Ti^ÒNar grimaced when Delenn stopped at another turbolift. Not again! Luckily, the lift was empty, so they didn^Òt have to pretend to be strangers. ^ÓGreen 7,^Ô Delenn said to the computer, then sighed and leaned back against the wall, closing her eyes as the lift began to move. Ti^ÒNar bit down hard on her lower lip and clung to the handrail. Her stomach was doing triple flips. ^ÓThis is happening far too often,^Ô Delenn said. ^ÓToo many secrets and half-truths, everything moving so quickly . . .^Ô she let it trail off. Ti^ÒNar understood, and yet she was confused. What exactly was the Captian to Delenn? Why did it bother her so much to lie to him? But as for things moving too quickly - that was something she was far too familiar with. She felt the need to say something, but didn^Òt know what. The lift came to a halt, and the ambassador swept out into the hall in a swirl of purple silk, giving Ti^ÒNar no time to say anything. The Centuari was young, male, arrogant, not very much different from any of the hundreds of Centuari who wandered around the Zocalo, except for perhaps a certain coldness about the eyes. It gave him a certain depth that his peers lacked, made him a force to be taken seriously, to be feared, while his comtempories were little more than grown children, reaping the benefits of coldnesses in their parents^Ò eyes. He treated them with contempt, and was treated likewise; it did not matter, they were far below him, and would likely remain there. He moved in loftier cirlces, albeit in the shadows, deliberately unremarked, but there was a certain power in silence, freedom in being a face without a name. Today he wandered over to a similarly unremarkable potted plant just outside the Zocalo. He smiled, letting his swagger grow a trifle unsteady, as if he had had just a tad too much to drink; appearances could be deceiving. He reached out as if to steady himself, grabbing white-knuckled to the clay pot, made a pretense of nearly falling on his proud face. His fingers snatched up a tiny recording device. Then he straighten, with studied effort, and sauntered off down the hall, unnoticed. Back in his quarters, he played the message over twice, to be sure he missed nothing. There was no room for error; he had learned that very young. this would be dificult, but not impossible. He had done far more impossible things, and he was being paid well. He stood, crushed the tiny device between his fingered, watched as it crumpled to a fine gray powder as the chemicals in the outside casing reacted with those stored inside the miniscule contraption, turning it to ash. He dusted his hand on his coat, and strode purposefully out the door. to be continued . . . . . From SLV80@aol.com Sun Aug 18 20:46:56 1996 Date: Fri, 9 Aug 1996 15:35:16 -0400 From: SLV80@aol.com To: b5-creative@lists.best.com Subject: "Loyalties and Destinies," part 3 ^ÓLoyalties and Destinies,^Ô part 3 The ambassador^Òs quarters were comfortable, but Ti^ÒNar felt ill at ease, especially with the ambassador gone, attented a meeting of something refered to vaguely as the war council. Ti^ÒNar felt immesureably better after bathing and eating the first hot meal she had tasted in months, but she still felt strange. Delenn had lent her a robe, and though it was a very thoughtful gesture, and she was grateful for clean clothes, she hated it. It was too . . . Minbari. Like the ambassadors quarter. Too alien. Her old clothes had been so ragged that Delenn had just thrown them away, and Ti^ÒNar had made no protest. She walked barefoot on the cold floor; her boots had been filthy and worn beyond redemption. They were the last things she had from Narn. She felt like she had been erased. She supposed that was the whole point. The sooner she accepted that the better. It wasn^Òt her they wanted alive, just her name, her title, her position. A doll in a glass case. Not real at all. She felt like crying, and pride be damned. Couldn^Òt fate, in all its harshness, have seen fit to spare her a damned pair of boots? Such a stupid thing to cry over, boots. There were so many things far more worthy of tears. Damn G^Òkar and his ^Óinsperation.^Ô She didn^Òt want to be an insperation, she wanted to be a person. Her duty. It would have been so much easier if she had been born a peasant, and her duty whatever she made it. Then she could have joined the resistance, just another soldier. She could do far more good with a PPG on Narn than with all the titles in the universe, sitting locked away on Minbar. But fate had not allowed her that; fate had not allowed her a bloody pair of boots. And she was far more fortunate than others. That was what hurt the worst, that she had no right to cry; she was alive while all around her was nothing but death, she aught feel more gratitude than she could imagine. All she felt was guilt. Names and faces floated through her mind like specters, the sound of voices she would never hear again. She pounded her fist against the wall in impotent fury; she would *not* cry. She had no *right* to cry. But damn it, couldn^Òt they have left her a pair of boots? Couldn^Òt they have left her something? She breathed in jagged sobs, but no tears escaped her flame-red eyes. She had cried the night of the attack, cried when all her family died, cried as she was spirited away to some place that even now she did not know the name of, to spend that eternal night hiding like a rat in its hole. And in the morning, she had sworn that she would never cry again. Becase nothing, nothing, could every be as bad as that. She would not cry, not for herself, not for a damned pair of boots. She heard a sound at the door. She tried to compose herself, expecting to see the ambassador swirling in through the doorway like a bird made out of silk. But the door did not open immediately. She heard a series of computerized clicks; she recognized the sound of an electronic lockpick. She dove for the counter just as the door opened, the bright orange of plasma blasts entering the room before the three men did. She saw two humans and one Centuari. The humans were shabbily dressed and hard looking; hired thugs. The Centuari was better attired, genteel in appearance, with eyes like ice. Assassin. They fanned out across the room, PPGs held ready. One of the humans was coming her way. She searched frantically for something that she might use as a weapon. She had left her knife on the table. She spotted a heavy-looking crystal bowl on the counter just above her head, filled with some sort of yellow fruit. She could bash him over the head with it, but she would need to be close, and he had a gun . . . she untied her belt from around her waste and tossed it across the room. All three men pivoted almost simultaneous and fired. In the same instant, she grabbed the bowl and hurled at the nearest man; it caught him neatly on the side of the head, shattering. She had time to see blood running down the side of his face, and his stunned expression, then she ran headfirst into him, shoving him towards the Centuari. the Centuari was quicker, firing off three shots before she had made it across the room to the table. One caught her shoulder, sending pain like frozen fire jolting through her arm. The other two blasts went wide, one hitting the stunned thug, the third leaving a smoldering hole in the wall. Then she had reached the table, and her knife; the third human has not quick enough. He had just managed to bring his PPG to bear on her when her knife planted itself solidly between his ribs. He fired anyway, reflexively, his trigger finger not yet aware that he was dead. She jumped to avoid the blast, then grabbed the PPG away from him, avoiding his empty gaze, his eyes already starting to glaze over. She sprayed the room with molten plasma, but the Centuari was gone, the door closing softly behind him. She lowered the gun, sensations rushing in on her like a flood now that the immidiate danger was gone. Her heart was beating at five times its normal rate, and she was breathing in ragged gasps, her chest heaving. The whole encounter could not have taken more than a few seconds, but she felt like she had been running nonstop for hour. The adrenhaline quickly faded, leaving her sick and shaking. She clutched the PPG tightly in her good hand as she stumbled into the bedroom and closed the door, blocking out the sight of the bodies. She thought she was going to vomit, and was instantaneously furious with herself for it. It wasn^Òt the first time she had killed, likely it wouldn^Òt be the last, but she still felt like retching. She tried to calm herself; disgust would do her no good, and neither would fear. The Centuari assassin had realized quickly that he had underestimated her; he would not make the same mistake again. He would be back, and soon, with more men. Likely more experienced men as well, next time. Men who would not make mistakes. Her right shoulder felt like it was on fire, and her arm was quickly going numb. She forced the pain out of her mind. No time for that. She looked down at herself. The Minbari robe was hanging open, without the benefit of the belt she had thrown away. No good; a Narn dressed like a Minbari would attract far too much attention. She stumbled over to the ambassador^Òs closet, desperately searching for something not so brightly colored and silken, anything that didn^Òt cry out for notice. She found a plain brown cloak; it was Minbari design, and of fine fabric, but it would due. If she kept the hood up, no one would see her face. She hastily threw it over her shoulders, tried to make her stride a bit steadier as she crossed the outer chamber to the door, pointedly ignoring the motionless forms she was forced to step over. The hallway was empty except for a lone Drazi. He didn^Òt even look at her. So far, so good. The door would not close. She fumbled with the tiny console on the wall, but the door would not shut. She gave up, hurrying down the corridor away from the now-empty room. Where to? The Zocalo seemed safest, with its milling crowds; she would never be noticed among all those people. And then - she bit her lip, hard, forcing panic out of her thoughts. She would figure something out. She headed off in that direction, trying to ignoring the pain in her arm, the aching in her head, the desperate terror that seemed to penetrate her very soul. She was not dead yet. She had survived far too much to die now. Delenn wished she had found some excuse not to attend the War Council. Ten shadow attacks in two day, and nothing they could do about it. They had been full of hope, just a week or so ago, convinced they finally had a weapon. Shadows feared telepaths. Which was all well and good, but you needed to have a telepath or two in order for that knowledge to be worth anything. As of now, they didn^Òt, and it wasn^Òt. G^Òkar had sent Ta^ÒLon to inform them that, regretfully, he could not be present. A ship carrying more that a hundred refugees had docked just hours ago, and his own people must come first. Garibaldi had been there for a whole five minutes when he got called away to deal with a near riot in Brown sector - two opposing sides in one of the league wars had decided to start a battle here on the station, and the casualties had required Franklin^Òs attention as well. Marcus wasn^Òt even on the station, which left only Sheridan, Ivanova, and herself. It wasn^Òt much of a meeting. ^Ó - base at oh-eighthundred hours yesterday, the Drazi are reporting it as a total loss. They are also requesting financial aid to rebuild their jumpgate - evidently they only have two in the whole system, and the loss of one has practically brought trade to a halt,^Ô the commander read, then dropped that report and picked up the next. ^ÓThere was an attack on a Brakuri agricultural colony at eleven hundred hours, same day - again total loss. Approximately half a million people dead, no survivors being reported at this time. Will likely result in severe famine on the homeworld as well. The Brakuri are also requesting finacial aid, and hinting at some military support as well. At thirteen hundred hours, same day -^Ô Delenn stopped listening. Nothing they could do. Sheridan was staring at the huge chart on the opposite wall, face grim, aborbing every word. ^Ó- total loss, however, some of the crew managed to get to the escape pods before the whole station went. Estimated four hundred dead, two hundred wounded, fifty unharmed. Not as bad as it could have been, considering. They are outirght demanding military aid -^Ô ^ÓWhat military aid?^Ô muttered Sheridan bitterly. ^ÓWhat the hell makes them think we can do a damn thing?^Ô Delenn reached out to touch his arm, wincing at the bitter self-reproach in his voice, but he got up and began pacing back and forth. ^ÓGo on, commander,^Ô he said, resigned. ^ÓWhat next.^Ô ^ÓThat was the last report, sir,^Ô Ivonova. She looked tired, and angry, even more than usual. Delenn sat motionless, watching John staring at at the map. He looked like he hadn^Òt slept in years. ^ÓAny suggestions?^Ô he asked, almost sarcastically. No one said anything. The silence was loud. ^ÓWell,^Ô said Ivanova, businesslike, placing the reports in neat stacks. Tall, neat stacks. So many depending on them, and nothing they could do. ^ÓMy shift starts in five minutes, so if no one has anything else to add, I^Òm going to head up to C and C.^Ô ^ÓGo ahead, go,^Ô said Sheridan, sitting back down, resting his head in his hands. ^ÓWe aren^Òt getting much done here.^Ô The commander nodded, watching Sheridan with concern. She caught Delenn^Òs gaze as she headed to the stairs. ^Ó*Make sure he rests*,^Ô she mouthed. ^Ó*I will,*^Ô Delenn mouthed back. Ivanova nodded, satisfied, walked purposefully out of the room. ^ÓI have to leave now,^Ô Delenn told him gently, placing an hand on his shoulder. ^ÓYou should rest.^Ô ^ÓNaw, I^Òm not tired,^Ô he said, looking up at her. ^ÓI don^Òt suppose you could tell me now what was going on in the Zocalo?^Ô Delenn pursed her lips. If there was one thing she hated about all of this, this was it. She wanted desperately to tell him everthing, wanted him to reasure her that she was doing the right thing, that it would all turn out for the best. Wanted to put her head on his shoulder and cry. ^ÓIt is not mine to tell,^Ô she said. He nodded, accepting that, but clearly not liking it. ^ÓFigures,^Ô he grunted. ^ÓI^Òm sorry, John,^Ô she said. He looked so wretched, like he needed someone to take care of him. ^ÓI should go now,^Ô she said gently, standing. He reached out and caught her arm. ^ÓNo, wait, don^Òt leave like that,^Ô he said. ^ÓI^Òm sorry, I shouldn^Òt be upset with you, none of this is you^Òre fault.^Ô ^ÓAnd it isn^Òt yours, either,^Ô she said pointedly. He snorted. ^ÓI should be able to do something,^Ô he said. ^ÓHell, I^Òm supposed to be running this whole show, and I haven^Òt got a clue what I^Òm supposed to do.^Ô She didn^Òt say anything, just listened. He was watching he expectantly. ^ÓIt will work out,^Ô she said. ^ÓNothing in this universe happens without cause. It will be for the best, in the end.^Ô ^ÓTwo million people dead in two days, that^Òs for the best?^Ô he asked angrily, letting go of her arm. She wished she knew what to say. ^ÓNo, never mind, don^Òt answer that,^Ô he said. ^ÓI^Òm sorry, Delenn, I^Òm just so - frustrated. I shouldn^Òt have said that. Come on, if we can^Òt have dinner, at least let me walk you to your quarters.^Ô He was smiling sheepishly, holding out his arm, but he still looked too weary for words. She wished she could apologize too, wished she could tell him, wished she could do something to make it all better. She felt like the weight of the whole galaxy was on her shoulders. Just how he felt, she realized. She took his arm, trying to smile, to have faith in her own words, faith in the all-knowing universe. Vir wandered about the Zocalo, Londo^Òs new boots tucked under one arm. He wasn^Òt looking for anything in particular, just wandering. He did that a lot lately. He stopped to look at a string of purple beads. Maybe he should get this for Lyndisty. Just thinking about his betrothed made him feel giddy and nauseus at the same time. He thought he loved her, but she also horrified him. She had written to him, once, a real letter on paper. She said something about it being romantic. Oh well. The beads would look nice on her. Of course, anything would look nice on her. What if she didn^Òt like them? They weren^Òt very expensive, probably fakes, she might me offended. But it^Òs the thought that counts, right? He put the beads down, giving up. He still had to write back to her. He had been trying to form the first sentence for two weeks now. He turned around to head back towards the ambassador^Òs quarters, hoping that Londo hadn^Òt gotten himself too drunk, when a figure in a brown cloak crashed into him. A voice cursed in fluent Narn, then the figure hurried on. It stumbled. Vir grabbed its shoulder, trying to steady it; his hand came away bloody. ^ÓLet go of me, Centuari!^Ô hissed a furious voice in perfect English. The hood had fallen back a little, revealing the face of a young Narn woman. A face that for some reason seemed vaguely familiar. Then the Narn produced a knife out of the folds of the cloak. He backed away. ^ÓI mean no harm,^Ô he said hastily. ^ÓOf course not,^Ô she sneared, ^ÓCentuari.^Ô She tried unsteadily to raise to her feet, and fell again, cursing. ^ÓYou^Òre hurt,^Ô he said. ^ÓAnd you will become hurt, if you try to touch me again,^Ôshe said threateningly, but her voice was unsteady, and her legs would not hold her. Then she looked frantically over her shoulder, but in that second, she had gathered together some tattered shreds of dignity, so that her face looked almost regal. Vir realized why she looked familiar. He had seen that face before, on vids, before the war. *Great Maker, Londo will just love this.* If Londo found out. If Vir had anything to do with it, Londo never would. ^ÓWait,^Ô he said urgently, kneeling down to catch her arm. ^ÓI can help you.^Ô The knife appeared under his chin. He could feel it shaking in her hand. Around them, people continued on their way, willfully not seeing. ^ÓDammit, you^Òre drawing attention,^Ô she hissed. ^ÓYou know who I am, don^Òt you?^Ô That was an accusation, but her voice was trembling on the edge of hysteria. Vir tried to back a little away from the pount of the blade, sweating. This was probably one of the stupider things he had done in his life. He just hoped it wasn^Òt the last stupid thing he ever did. ^ÓAnd Centuari don^Òt help Narn,^Ô she added. ^ÓLet go of me. Now.^Ô ^ÓWait, calm down,^Ô he said, annoyed that his voice came out so close to a whimper. ^ÓYou don^Òt know who -^Ô ^ÓNow,^Ô she said, her voice deadly. He wondered why she didn^Òt just pull away from him. Then he realized she probably didn^Òt have the strength. ^ÓBut -^Ô he said frantically. ^ÓNow,^Ô she said, the blade just knicking his throat. ^ÓAbrahamo Linconi,^Ô he said in a rush, praying with all his might that she would understand. Her eyes narrowed. The knife was still at his throat, but it was no longer poking him. ^ÓAnyone can speak a name,^Ô she said suspiciously. ^ÓYou^Òre going to have to trust me,^Ô he pleaded. She laughed. ^ÓTrust a *Centuari*?^Ô He winced. She had a point. She also had a point at his throat. This wasn^Òt looking good. ^ÓIf you kill me, that will attract a whole lot of attention,^Ô he argued. ^ÓAbrahamo Lincolni,^Ô she said. ^ÓThat would be far too lucky for me, don^Òt you think? Too great a coincidence.^Ô ^ÓI^Òm not lying, really,^Ô he said, and this time it definutely was a whimper. He had to work on that. She sighed, and the knife vanished. He slumped against a stall. The proprietor gave him a nasty look. ^ÓYou^Òre too foolish to be an assassin,^Ô she said. ^ÓAny assassin worth hiring would have just kick my knees out from under me and stabbed me with my own knife.^Ô Vir blinked. He hadn^Òt even thought of that. She gave him a level stare. ^ÓYou need to get down to medlab -^Ô ^ÓNo.^Ô ^ÓBut you^Òre bleeding. You can^Òt even stand up straight,^Ô he argued. ^ÓMedlab is too public. I need to stay hidden,^Ô she snorted then, shaking her head. ^ÓIf that is possible. Last place they will look, hah.^Ô He didn^Òt know what she was talking about, but he guessed that she hadn^Òt gotten that hole in her shoulder by accident. There were assassins after her. *Of course there are, idiot,* he thought to himself. *She^Òs inner circle.* ^ÓThe last place anyone would look,^Ô he said suddenly, helping her too her feet, being careful to keep the hood pulled down over her face. ^ÓWhat are you thinking, Centuari?^Ô she asked suspiciously, then winced as he accidentally bumped her wounded shoulder. ^ÓOh, I^Òm sorry, are you -^Ô he began, then stopped at her exasperated stare. ^ÓAh, yes. The last place they would look,^Ô he said. ^ÓMy quarters. No one would ever expect a Centuari to be hiding a Narn, especially one of the -^Ô ^ÓShut up, you idiot!^Ô she hissed. ^ÓWhy don^Òt you raise your voice a little? I think there may be someone out on the rim that didn^Òt hear you!^Ô He shut his mouth hastily. Was he really that loud? She paused, giving him a look like daggers. ^ÓYour quarters? You^Òre right, Centuari, no one would expect to find me there, but if I didn^Òt know better -^Ô ^ÓNo, no, no,^Ô Vir said hastily, waving his arms around frantically. ^ÓI didn^Òt mean - I mean, I^Òm engaged, well, sort of -^Ô ^ÓI^Òve never known that to bother Centuari before,^Ô she said dryly. She was standing none too steadily, looking around anxiously. ^ÓWell, get going, Centuari. You^Òre the one that thought of this.^Ô ^ÓRight,^Ô he said, heading off towards his quarters. She stumbled a bit, but refused to let him help her along. She was still glaring at him. *I^Òm trying to *help* you!* he thought at her, but she went right on staring, and he knew that it didn^Òt matter what he did, he was still Centuari. The thought made him wince a little. He was doing the best he could to make up for that. It wasn^Òt enough. It would never be enough. Delenn was smiling. So was John, which was at least half of the reason why she was. He looked so much younger when he smiled. Of course, taking human lifespans into consideration, he was probably a good ten year younger than her - oh well. ^ÓSo what happened?^Ô he asked, wanting to hear the end of her story. She shrugged, grinning. She had not been grinning at the time, of course, but that was years ago. ^ÓI scrubbed pots for three weeks,^Ô she said. Three weeks had seemed like the end of the world when she had been just a student at the temple, annoyed at having been caught trying to steal fruit during a fast. ^ÓThree weeks, for a piece of fruit?^Ô he said incredulously. ^ÓWell,^Ô she said, ^ÓIt was the fruit that was to be use for the ceremony.^Ô ^ÓSheesh,^Ô he said, shaking his head, laughing. ^ÓSomehow I can^Òt imagine you scrubbing pots,^Ô he added. ^ÓWhy not?^Ô she asked, genuinely curious. She was walking slowly; they were nearing her quarters, and she didn^Òt want to give up his company. Somehow he always managed to make her feel a little better, make her forget for a little while. He gave her hope. It didn^Òt make much sense, but she was grateful for it anyway. ^ÓI don^Òt know,^Ô he said, smiling quizzically. He looked ahead, and his expression changed. He looked concerned, and his hand was suddenly resting on the PPG tucked into his belt. ^ÓWhat is it, John?^Ô she asked, frowning. ^ÓDid you leave your door open?^Ô he asked, brows creasing. ^ÓNo,^Ô she said, pearing down the hall. Her door was open. All thought of laughter vanished. ^ÓI have a . . guest, staying with me,^Ô she said. ^ÓPerhaps she -^Ô She couldn^Òt finish. Ti^ÒNar wouldn^Òt have left her quarters. Perhaps this wasn^Òt the last place anyone would look after all. Perhaps the assassins had found her. Perhaps she was already dead. Delenn rushed to the door. John put a hand out to try to stop her, but she brushed past him. She stopped abruptly at the door, seeing two bodies stretched out on the floor. Both were human. Her fruit bowl was shattered over one^Òs head, blood puddled on the floor. Her stomach heaved. ^ÓTi^ÒNar?^Ô she called, forgetting about secrecy. ^ÓTi^ÒNar?^Ô No answer. She would have rushed inside, but a hand on her should stopped her. ^ÓLet me-^Ô she started, pulling away. ^ÓNo,^Ô he said firmly, and much to her surprise, she found herself standing still. ^ÓSheridan to Garibaldi,^Ô he said into his link. ^ÓGaribaldi here, what^Òs up?^Ô ^ÓI need a security team to Ambassador Delenn^Òs quarters, stat.^Ô ^ÓGot it. If you don^Òt mind my asking -?^Ô ^ÓNot over the link.^Ô ^ÓRight. Be there as fast as we can. Garibaldi out.^Ô Sheridan dropped his hand, turned his gaze to her. ^ÓNow do you want to tell me what is going on?^Ô he asked. to be continued . . . Once again, comments and suggests would be very much appreciated. Thanks to everyone who commented on part 1! From SLV80@aol.com Sun Dec 22 22:44:33 1996 Date: Tue, 27 Aug 1996 15:45:54 -0400 From: SLV80@aol.com To: b5-creative@lists.best.com Subject: "Loyalties and Destinies," part 5 Hello everyone. This segment got a little longer than I really wanted it to be, but I couldn't cut much more out without losing the story, and I couldn't find a place to break it into two segments. So, sorry about the length, hope you enjoy. Standard disclaimers. -Lynne ^ÓLoyalties and Destinies,^Ô part 5 ^ÓI^Òm sorry, sir, but sensors picked up a weapons violation,^Ô Becca Warren told the angry Centuari that was standing, arms crossed, refusing to move, a few paces in front of her. If there was one part of her job she absolutely despised, this would have to be it. Dealing with obnoxious civilians. ^ÓIf you won^Òt submit to a search I^Òm going to have to take you down to headquarters.^Ô ^ÓYou have no reason for detaining me,^Ô the Centauri repeated. For the fifth time. ^ÓYes, I do,^Ô she said, also for the fifth time, beginning to lose patience. ^ÓWhen you entered green sector, the sensors reported that you were carrying a concealed weapon. This is against station policy, and if you will not turn over your weapon, I can throw you in the brig ^Ñtill either you give me your gun or hell freezes. Whichever comes first.^Ô ^ÓI have diplomatic immunity,^Ô he responded smoothly. ^ÓAnd I don^Òt give a damn,^Ô she shot back, her temper snapping. ^ÓThe charter of the Babylon Project expressly forbids concealed weapons. It also forbids illegal weapons, and since I have yet to see any registration for any sort of weapon, I^Òm willing to bet you^Òve broken that little rule, too. Now either you hand over the gun, with registration, or we head down to the brig. Now if you have registration, and it checks out, you get your little toys back, everybody goes home. Either way, it^Òs fine with me. Okay?^Ô ^ÓNo,^Ô he said. For a moment, she just stared. And duty in the ambassadorial wing was supposed to be a piece of cake. Right. ^ÓExcuse me?^Ô she said incredulously, trying to sound as authoritative as possible. In truth, this guy was starting to scare her. His eyes were too icy, they gave her the shivers. Her hand was resting on the PPG tucked into the holster at her hip. ^ÓWhat did you say?^Ô ^ÓI said, no,^Ô he repeated clearly. Then his hand came up, a PPG appearing in it out of nowhere. ^ÓOh shit -^Ô she exclaimed, trying to draw her own weapon, but he fired too fast. She felt a brief, searing bolt of pain in her chest, then everything turned to hazy darkness. Her link was activated as she hit the floor. The Centauri stared down at her. He did not check for a pulse; to do so would leave fingerprints, and it didn^Òt matter very much to him if she was dead or not. By the time she came to he would be long gone. She was an inconveniece, nothing more. A waste of plasma. He hated being messy like this. He stepped over her motionless form and continued down the hall. ^ÓWarren?^Ô said a voice from the unconscious woman^Òs link. ^ÓWarren, are you there?^Ô There was only silence in response. ^ÓHey Becca, are you there?^Ô the voice asked, a bit more concerned. ^ÓBecca?^Ô Dead silence. Then, in the background, as if the voice were talking to someone else, ^ÓHey, Joe, Becca^Òs not answering. I^Òm gonna go check up on her, okay?^Ô A few minutes later, footsteps could be heard approaching. ^ÓBecca?^Ô called the same voice, as the man it belonged to rounded the corner. ^ÓBecca, are you -^Ô he saw her motionless form. He dashed up to her, feeling around her jaw for a pulse. It was faint, but it was there. She was bleeding only a little from the gaping wound in her chest. ^ÓFernandez to Medlab, I^Òve got a medical emergency on green 2,^Ô he snapped into his link. Medlab ackowledged, said help was on the way. He nodded, realizing belatedly that you couldn^Òt see a nod over a link. He took hold of her hand. It was very cold. ^ÓFernandez to Garibaldi,^Ô he said taughtly into his link, pushing down the lump forming in his throat. He hated to see anyone hurt, but Becca was one of his best friends. And she was hurt bad. He had seen people die of far less. ^ÓGaribaldi, go,^Ò came the voice form over the link. ^ÓChief, I think you aught to get down to green 2,^Ô Fernandez said. He knew how the chief felt about his team. He would want to be there. ^ÓThere^Òs been an - an accident.^Ô It wasn^Òt any accident. People don^Òt get shot at close range by accident. But he didn^Òt know what else to call it. ^ÓWhat happened?^Ô the Chief asked, concerned. ^ÓI don^Òt know,^Ô was the only answer Fernandez could give. Garibaldi watched the tape over again. The security camera was at an odd angle, making it look like he was watching to whole scene while perched on the ceiling. But it was clear enough what had happen. Sensors picked up a weapons violation. Warren stopped the suspect, asked him turn over any weapons. He refused. She told him she was going to have to search him. Again, he refused. She lost her temper, snapped at him. He shot her, then walked away. Stepped right over her like she was a damned rock. Garibaldi felt like hitting something. He also felt the nagging craving for a drink. He shoved it down ruthlessly. The perpetrator was Centauri. He had kept his head down the whole time, so that his face wasn^Òt visible for even a second. The way things were going, it seemed too much to hope that he wasn^Òt connected to the earlier mess in Delenn^Òs quarters. Besides, everything about him screamed assassin. It was ridiculously obvious. Except that it hadn^Òt been obvious to Becca. Probably because she had about two months of experience. A kid from Orion 7, just got here three months ago, looking for a job. They were understaffed, and she was a damn good shot, so he took her in. A lot of good it did her. He was going to have to tell the captain. This wasn^Òt going to be pretty. ^ÓWhat is this?^Ô Delenn asked, holding the object up in front of her face for inspection. ^ÓIt^Òs called a peanut-butter and jelly sandwich,^Ô John informed her. ^ÓSorry I haven^Òt got anything fancier, but I usually just drop by the mess hall. I don^Òt cook much.^Ô Delenn was silently grateful for that. If the rest of his cooking was anything like the flarn he had tried to prepare, she was glad to be spared. ^ÓIt looks fine,^Ô she told him, taking a bite. It was sticky and vaguely sweet, altogether not too bad. He watched her. ^ÓLike it?^Ô he asked. ^ÓIt^Òs very - unusual,^Ô she said, looking back down at the sandwich. The idea of eating with your hands was a little disturbing, but not badly so. ^ÓIt^Òs good.^Ô ^ÓGood,^Ô he said, taking a bite of his own sandwich. For a few moments, they ate in silence. Delenn^Òs thoughts wandered. She worried about Ti^ÒNar, alone and scared, lost in an unfamiliar place. ^ÓWell, I guess we got to have dinner after all,^Ô John said. ^ÓI wish the circumstances could be a little different, though.^Ô ^ÓYes,^Ô Delenn said distractedly. ^ÓSo do I.^Ô Lennier was finding her a place to stay for the night, but in the mean time, Sheridan hadn^Òt wanted her just wandering the halls. He had a tendency to be protective of her, and while it was flattering, it also got annoying. The comm unit on the wall beeped, and Garibaldi^Òs face appearred. Delenn looked up hopefully; perhaps they had found Ti^ÒNar. ^ÓCaptain, we^Òve got a problem,^Ô he began. ^Ó- breach of station security, it^Òs that simple, Ambassador,^Ô Sheridan was all but shouting at Londo. ^ÓThis is an internal affair, Captain, none of your -^Ô Londo attempted to respond. ^ÓOh, internal like hell,^Ô Sheridan said succinctly. ^ÓIf this is purely an internal affair, Londo, why is one of my security officers in a coma?^Ô ^ÓAn accident, as I explained to you before,^Ô Londo said dismissively. ^Óthe - individual - that your security personel were harrassing had diplomatic immunity. He should not have been detained.^Ô ^ÓHe was carrying an illegal weapon,^Ô Sheridan countered. ^ÓUnregistered weapons are strictly forbidden by the charter of the Babylon Project, which, in this case, supercedes diplomatic immunity. And regardless, he shot one of my people.^Ô ^ÓI don^Òt have time for this, captain,^Ô Londo said. ^ÓDon^Òt have time?^Ô Sheridan repeated incredulously. ^ÓDon^Òt have -^Ô But the Centauri ambassador had disconnected the call. ^ÓDo you believe that?^Ô he asked Delenn. She merely sighed. ^ÓYou know, I^Òm starting to think it would make everyone^Òs life a whole lot easier if we just kicked the Centauri off the station,^Ô he continued. ^ÓThey are not all like that,^Ô Delenn pointed out. ^ÓThink of Vir.^Ô ^ÓWell, yeah, there is Vir -^Ô he conceded, then stopped midsentence. ^ÓWhat?^Ô Delenn asked. He turned around, and Delenn could tell he had an idea. ^ÓDelenn, Garibaldi has people combing this station from top to bottom looking for Ti^ÒNar and no one had found her,^Ô he said. ^ÓDon^Òt you think that^Òs a little strange, considering how little knowledge of the station she has? She wouldn^Òt know where to hide.^Ô ^ÓShe is quite resourceful,^Ô Delenn said, not grasping where this was going. ^ÓNot that resourceful. Think about it. Where is the last place anyone would expect to find a Narn? With a Centuari,^Ô he concluded. The pieces came together in Delenn^Òs mind. ^ÓVir,^Ô she said. ^ÓVir,^Ô Sheridan confirmed. ^ÓBut if we^Òve thought of this, it won^Òt be long before Londo does. Come on,^Ô he said, grabbing his jacket and heading for the door. ^ÓWe haven^Òt got much time.^Ô Londo shut off the comm unit while Sheridan was in midsentence. He walked away from the wall unit, over to the counter, and poured himself a drink. He certainly needed one. He had always felt that assassins were more trouble than they were worth. Thinking of things that were more trouble than they were worth, Londo thought of Vir. He should have been back with his boots by now. Gross incompetance. Londo had absolutely no idea why he put up with it. Except that he liked Vir. That was certainly the only reason he had been allowed to get away with the little games he had been playing on Minbar, forging travel papers for Narns. Londo couldn^Òt fathom where he had gotten the idea to do such a thing. Minbari influence or no, he thought Vir had a little more sense than that. But only just a very little. Then a sudden thought struck him. He stood frozen for a minute, reluctant to believe his own intuition. But it all fit together perfectly. He drained his glass and walked purposefully, if somewhat reluctantly, out the door. Once again, Vir had some explaining to do. ^ÓI^Òm going to call Dr. Franklin,^Ô Vir said, his arms crossed, attempting to look authoritative. ^ÓNo, you^Òre not,^Ô argued Ti^ÒNar, clenching her teeth together to keep them from chattering. She felt like she was freezing, and her head was swimming, the room seeming to swirl as if it were under water. ^ÓYou have a fever of 94 degrees, Celcius,^Ô he told her. *Thanks,* she thought, *I hadn^Òt figured that out.* ^ÓThat^Òs not so bad, for a Narn,^Ô she lied. ^ÓWe^Òre supposed to have a higher temperature than you normally.^Ô ^ÓThen why do you keep blacking out?^Ô he asked. She had had been blacking out? She didn^Òt remember that. Her head hurt. She wasn^Òt sure if this was the fever from the ship coming back or the result of the wound in her shoulder. Probably a combination. ^ÓDr. Franklin is completely trustworthy,^Ô Vir pleaded. ^ÓYou need -^Ô ^ÓNo,^Ô she said. It came out considerably more shaky than she would have liked. ^ÓTi^ÒNar -^Ô Vir began, but was interrupted as the door chimed. They both froze. Vir gestured frantically towards the bedroom. Ti^ÒNar pushed herself up off the coach, practically falling across the room. ^ÓWho^Òs there?^Ô Vir called. ^ÓOpen the door, Vir,^Ô answered Londo. Vir swallowed. Ti^ÒNar had stumbled into the other room and was sitting on the floor, leaning against the bed. She was breathing in gasps as if she had just run a mile, not walked about ten feet. She looked deathly pale. Vir hastily closed the door, blocking out the sight of her. ^ÓCome in,^Ô he said, as casually as he could. Londo entered, scanning the room before letting his eyes settle on Vir. Vir smiled. The smile even felt fake. ^ÓAmbassador,^Ô Vir said. ^ÓWhat can I do for you?^Ô ^ÓI thought I sent you for a pair of boots, Vir,^Ô Londo said severely. Rather too severely for something as inconsequential as a pair of boots. Vir began to sweat. Londo knew. He didn^Òt know how, but Londo knew. ^ÓAh, yes,^Ô Vir replied, snatching up the shoebox and presenting it to Londo. ^ÓHere. I forgot to bring them over. Sorry.^Ô He winced at his oversight, hoped that he didn^Òt overdo the apologetic act. Londo did not take the box. This was not looking good. ^ÓVir,^Ô Londo said, conversationally, ^ÓI wanted to warn you that there is Narn war criminal loose on the station. You should be careful Vir, she could be very dangerous, and considering the position you are in, she might consider you a potential target.^Ô ^ÓI^Òll keep an eye out,^Ô Vir said. Londo was studying him. Vir tried to smile again, but for some reason his face wouldn^Òt comply. *I^Òm not good at this,* he thought. *I should have gotten her out of here. Last place anyone will look, hah.* ^ÓYou know, Vir, I was just thinking,^Ô Londo said. ^ÓAfter spending so much time on Minbar, it must be quite a shock to suddenly find yourself back here, on Babylon 5.^Ô ^ÓIt was a bit of an adjustment,^Ô Vir said neutrally. ^ÓAnd I thought that maybe, Vir, you might have hung onto a few habits you picked up while on Minbar, no?^Ô ^ÓA few things,^Ô Vir conceded. ^ÓI learned how to cook flarn. I still make it for myself sometimes. It^Òs very good, you should try it,^Ô Vir suggested, pretending to have no idea what Londo was talking about. ^ÓPerhaps,^Ô Londo responded. ^ÓBut I was thinking more of - other things. Habits that it might be dangerous to bring back here.^Ô ^ÓOh,^Ô said Vir. He couldn^Òt think of anything else to say. *Just get it over with,* he thought at Londo. ^ÓHas Ambassador Delenn been to visit you, Vir?^Ô Londo asked. ^ÓNo,^Ô Vir said, shaking his head, surprised at the apparent change of subject. Where was this going? ^ÓNo, not recently.^Ô ^ÓHave you heard that someone broke into her quarters this morning, Vir?^Ô ^ÓNo, is she alright?^Ô Vir asked, genuinely concerned. Delenn scared him a little sometimes, but he wouldn^Òt want anything to happen to her. ^ÓOh, she wasn^Òt even there when it happened,^Ô Londo said dismissively. ^ÓIt is a very curious thing, Vir. She discovered her door open and two dead humans inside, but no one seems to know who killed them, or why, or what they were doing there. Very strange indeed. And even stranger, that this should happen when there is a dangerous criminal loose one the station. Do you suppose the two are connected, Vir?^Ô Vir shrugged, attempted to mumble something in response, but it came out rather unintelligible. Ti^ÒNar had been wearing a Minbari robe under her brown cloak. In fact, now that he thought about it, he had seen Ambassador Delenn in both the robe and the cloak. And then a sudden horrible thought struck him. Ti^ÒNar had fled to the other room so quickly, what if she had forgotten - ^ÓAnd now I come across another strange thing,^Ô Londo continued. ^ÓAmbassador Delenn^Òs cloak, lying on your couch.^Ô Vir felt suddenly nauseus. ^ÓYou see, Vir, it is like a puzzle,^Ô Londo said. ^ÓThe way I see it, whoever killed those humans in Ambassador Delenn^Òs quarters must have also taken the cloak. Now, for a few seconds, I could not fathom how it could have ended up on your couch. After all, I don^Òt suppose that you would have broken into Delenn^Òs quarters, Vir?^Ô Vir shook his head anxiously, trying to think of some way he could warn Ti^ÒNar. But he couldn^Òt do anything without letting Londo know where she was. ^ÓAh, well, that is good. For a moment I was quite worried. But if you did not steal Ambassar Delenn^Òs cloak, then that must mean that whoever did has been here. And do you know Vir, I just had another thought. Sheridan has always been foolishly sympathetic to the Narns, and he and Delenn have been spending so much time together, I wonder if she may have started to think along the same lines. In fact, I would go so far as to wonder if she might not have sheltered out little Narn murderer.^Ô ^ÓPerhaps,^Ô said Vir, feeling very, very ill. *Just get on with it!* he thought furiously at Londo. He purposely dragging this out, tormenting him. ^ÓAnd then I remembered some of the nasty little habits you picked up on Minbar,^Ô Londo said. ^ÓAnd now, Vir, I think I have solved the puzzle. Do you see how nicely it all fits together, Vir?^Ô Vir just shook his head. ^ÓVir,^Ô Londo said, his voice full of fatherly dissappointment. ^ÓAnd here I had thought that you were making progress. You hadn^Òt even tried to apologize to G^Òkar in weeks.^Ô Vir looked up, startled. How had Londo known about that? Londo was shaking his head. ^ÓOh well, I suppose I have been foolishly optomistic. I am prepared to offer you a second - well, no, I suppose this would be third - chance. You give your little Narn pet to me, and I will just pretend that you have captured her, rather than sheltered her. It would actually look very good for you, Vir. You might come be considered something of a hero back home.^Ô ^ÓYou know I can^Òt do that, Londo,^Ô Vir said, furious that Londo would consider him capable of such a thing. Londo sighed. ^ÓI thought as much,^Ô he said, exasperated. ^ÓVir, I cannot protect you from yourself forever, especially not if you keep doing things like this.^Ô ^ÓI don^Òt want to be protected,^Ô Vir almost shouted. He was sick of being treated like a child, and a rather stupid child at that. ^ÓVir, there are several assassins searching even now for your little pet. They were not hired by me - I didn^Òt even know they were here until an hour ago. I have no control over them whatsoever. You are very lucky that I found out about your little - indescretion - first. I assure you, if these assassins had found out, it would have been considerably more painful for you.^Ô Vir said nothing. ^ÓThey will figure it out, eventually. You cannot hide forever. And Vir, I am running out of friends who owe me favors. If news of your actions reaches Centauri Prime, I am not certain that I will be able to contain it. Think, Vir. Do you really want to loose everything you^Òve worked for, all that you^Òve earned, to become an outcast, hunted like an animal, just for the sake of this one Narn?^Ô ^ÓAnd what is it that I^Òve earned, Londo?^Ô Vir countered, something within him seeming to snap. He was so sick of this, all of it. ^ÓWhat exactly is it that I^Òm going lose? Who am I going to affront, Londo? You?^Ô ^ÓVir -,^Ò Londo began, half scolding and half sympathetic. ^ÓNo,^Ô Vir said, interrupting him. ^ÓDon^Òt even trying to pretend you understand. Do you know how much I have gone thorugh for the sake of your secrets, your ambitions, and what have I gotten in return? I haven^Òt had three hours of uninterrupted sleep since this began, because the nightmares keep me awake! Do you know what it^Òs been like, sitting back and waitning for the galaxy to go up in flames? Do you know what it^Òs like thinking that maybe, just maybe, I might have prevented it, if I had only had the courage to stand up to you?^Ô ^ÓVir, there is no need to -^Ô ^ÓAnd why don^Òt you tell me, Londo, if I were to become an outcast, to loose everything that I^Òve become, why I shouldn^Òt celebrate? Or maybe you should just tell me how I^Òm supposed to tell the difference.^Ô Londo was standing there, just saring at him, his expression totally unreadable. ^ÓWell?^Ô Vir insisted. ^ÓAren^Òt you going to say anything? ^ÓI think,^Ô Londo said quietly. ^Óthat it has been a very long time since I looked in a mirror.^Ô ^ÓWhat?^Ô said Vir. ^ÓLondo-^Ô ^ÓNo, never mind,^Ô Londo said, waving Vir into silence. ^ÓDon^Òt bother. You^Òve said enough. I think I should go now,^Ô he said and turned around. He walked slowly, looking suddenly stooped and old, like the wieght of the universe had descended on his shoulders. Vir was overwhelmed with pity for him. The door closed behind his retreating figure, and Vir had to resist the urge to run after him and apologize. Londo was very likely the only person in all the galaxy who gave a damn what happened to Vir. His only friend, and he had betrayed him. Vir sank down onto the brown couch, pushing the brown cloak out of the way befor he sat. He pick it up and examined the fine cloth. Maybe he should go talk to Delenn. She always seemed to understand these things. Except that Delenn, people like Delenn, always made him tongue-tied and nervous, so that he could hardly talk. Maybe Lennier. Lennier wasn^Òt quite so frightening. Except that he didn^Òt think Lennier had ever had to make a difficult decision in his life. He needed to talk to someone. ^ÓHe^Òs gone?^Ô said Ti^ÒNar from the doorway, but it was more of a statement than a question. He nodded. Ti^ÒNar stumbled over to the couch and sat down opposite him. ^ÓI didn^Òt know you were the Ambassador^Òs attache,^Ô she said. Vir nodded, not looking up. He felt like he was in a big dark box, and walls of it were slowly pushing inwards, so that he would eventually be crushed. He didn^Òt really care anymore. He just wished they would hurry up. ^ÓI suppose it^Òs a very long story,^Ô she said, her tone carefully neutral. She was trying to make him feel better, he realized. There she was, looking like death itself and probably feeling twice as bad, and she was worried about him. And she was Narn. The irony of it was astounding. And for some odd reason, it did make him feel better. ^ÓVery, very long,^Ô he replied. She said nothing for a few minutes. ^ÓVir,^Ô she said finally. ^ÓYes?^Ô he asked. ^ÓI think it is enough,^Ô she said. ^ÓNot what you^Òve done. But that you^Òre trying.^Ô ^ÓYou would have done the same,^Ô he said. ^ÓNo,^Ô she confessed. ^ÓI wouldn^Òt have. Which is why it is enough.^Ô He didn^Òt know what to say. Her voice was shaky; he could tell she was trying to keep her teeth from chattering. She needed to get down to medlab, needed antibiotic for the fever, needed that wound treated. But he couldn^Òt convince her to go, and he didn^Òt have the guts to just drag her down there. He wasn^Òt good at this at all. And it wasn^Òt enough, no matter what she said. ^ÓYou don^Òt believe me,^Ô she said. ^ÓNo, I don^Òt,^Ô Vir admitted. ^ÓVir, I wouldn^Òt lie. And I wouldn^Òt soften the truth. You know that.^Ô ^ÓI don^Òt know anything about you,^Ô he argued. ^ÓThis is really very funny, you know,^Ô she said. Vir didn^Òt see anything funny about it. ^ÓThis is the same conversation we had an hour ago, just reversed.^Ô Vir said nothing. He recalled how that conversation ended; she had told him her name. He was still trying to figure that out. ^ÓVir,^Ô she said again. ^ÓYes?^Ô he asked, exasperated. Why did everyone have to keep repeating his name? ^ÓI am Inner Circle,^Ô she said. ^ÓI know that,^Ô Vir responded. ^ÓI^Òve made a decision. I^Òm giving up my title,^Ô she said. ^ÓI want to do one last thing before I become just another refugee. My last act.^Ô ^ÓOkay,^Ô Vir said, not really understanding what this had to do with anything. ^ÓVir Cotto, on behalf of all my people, I forgive you,^Ô she said. Vir blinked. He had not been expecting that. He had not been expecting that at all. The door chimed. Vir almost laughed. The universe had horrible timing. ^ÓI don^Òt think I can get to the other room myself,^Ô Ti^ÒNar admitted. ^ÓYou^Òre going to have to help me.^Ô Vir^Òs head was spinning. She was asking for his help? He was beginning to feel worried that the sky was going to fall any minute now. ^ÓNever mind,^Ô Vir said. ^ÓI^Òm not going to asnwer it. Whoever^Òs out there can just go to hell.^Ô Ti^ÒNar actually chuckled. ^ÓI know the feeling,^Ô she said. ^ÓI think I might actually miss you, Vir Cotto.^Ô Again, Vir did not know how to respond. She had an unnerving ability to render him speachless. She also had about two mood swings per minute. The door chimed again. ^ÓVir, this is Captain Sheridan, we need to talk,^Ô called a voice from outside in the hall. Ti^ÒNar recognized the voice as the man Delenn had been talking to in the hallway. ^ÓI^Òm rather busy at the moment,^Ô Vir called out. ^ÓVir, it^Òs about Ti^ÒNar,^Ô said Delenn^Òs voice. ^ÓLet her in,^Ô Ti^ÒNar ordered. ^ÓCome in,^Ô Vir called. The door opened, revealing Sheridan, Delenn, Garibaldi, and half of Station Security standing outside his door. ^ÓCome in,^Ô he repeated. Sheridan, Delenn, and Garibaldi did, leaving the rest of the security forc outside. Ti^ÒNar looked up from the couch. ^ÓHello,^Ô she said calmly. Delenn rushed to her side. ^ÓAre you all right?^Ô she inquired anxiously, taking hold of her hands, then dropping then hastily, as if she had been burned. ^ÓYou are ill,^Ô she said in concern, turing to Sheridan. ^ÓCaptain, she has a fever, she needs a doctor, and quickly,^Ô Delenn announced. ^ÓRight here,^Ô came Franklin^Òs voice, as the throng of security personel party to admit him. He looked own at Ti^ÒNar, but addressed Delenn. ^ÓSorry it took me so long to get down here. I^Òve got a stretcher waiting outside, just in case. Do you think she can make it that far, or should I bring it in here?^Ô ^ÓI can make it out the door,^Ô Ti^ÒNar said. She was watching Delenn, obviously unnerved by all the people. Delenn smiled reassuringly, and Ti^ÒNar attempted to stand. She stumbled, practically falling into Franklin. ^ÓOkay, take it easy,^Ô he said, catching her. He slung her arm over his shoulder, supporting her as she hobbled dizzily out to the stretcher. Vir watched her go, aware that he would probably never see her again, and wanting to say goodbye. He remained silent. He didn^Òt know how to say it. ^ÓVir, you^Òve been a great deal of help,^Ô Sheridan was saying. ^ÓI hope this hasn^Òt caused you any problems.^Ô ^ÓNo, no problems,^Ô Vir lied. Sheridan nodded, and followed Franklin out of the room. Garibaldi gave him a qucik nod of appreciation, but said nothing. As qucilky as the room had filled, it was empty. Then Vir realized that Delenn was still sitting there. ^ÓI need to be down in medlab,^Ô she said. ^ÓShe will be frightened, with so many strangers, in an unfamiliar place. But I thought you might need someone to talk to.^Ô Vir sighed and sat down on the couch, staring down at the floor. He had wanted to talk to someone. ^ÓIt^Òs a very long story,^Ô he warned her. ^ÓI have time,^Ô she said. He started talking. By the time he was finished, he had told her everything. She listened and silently nodded through the whole thing. When he was finally done talking, she produced a pin from a pocket in her robe. She handed it to him. It was two figures, holding a blue stone between them. ^ÓWhat is this?^Ô he asked. As she explained, he stared down at it, tracing the swirling patterns of the stone with his finger. This was two great honors he had recieved in one day. Carefully, almost reverently, he pinned it onto his coat. to be continued . . . . Comments and suggest would be greatly appreciated. Thanks to everyone who's helped me with this so far! From SLV80@aol.com Sun Dec 22 22:53:50 1996 Date: Wed, 4 Sep 1996 13:23:42 -0400 From: SLV80@aol.com To: b5-creative@lists.best.com Subject: "Loyalties and Destinies," part 6/conclusion Hello everybody! This is the last chapter of my first story. I want to thank Marion for coming up with the boots idea and being nice enough to let me use it. -Lynne Loyalties and Destinies, part 6 Medlab was quiet. In one corner, Becca Warren was sitting up in bed, undergoing a series of tests to determine whether or not she was still in danger of lapsing back into the coma she had come out of this morning. Ti^ÒNar occupied the other corner. She had been moved out of isolation a few hours ago. She now lay on a cot, drugged half out of her wits, but improving steadily. She spent most of her time sleeping, and when she was not sleeping, she was thinking about the strange gift Delenn had given her the day before. She picked up the brooch that was lying on the table next to her bed. Ranger. She rolled the sound of that around in her in her mind for a while. I sounded distinctly human, yet the whole concept behind it was definatively Minbari. And she was neither. It seemed very odd that that should matter so little to her. She traced the swirls on the blue stone with her finger. She had the sudden feeling that she was being watched. She looked up. Vir Cotto was standing in the doorway, looking down at the pin she was holding. He had a box under one arm. She noticed that he had a similar brooch, pinned to his coat. ^ÓHello,^Ô she said. ^ÓHello,^Ô he responded, putting the box down and sitting beside the bed. He gestured to the Ranger pin. ^ÓShe gave you one too?^Ô he asked. ^ÓYes,^Ô she answered. ^ÓShe told me I would be the only Narn, for now. There might be more later.^Ô ^ÓSomehow I doubt there will ever be more Centauri,^Ô Vir said dryly. For a few minutes neither of them said anything. Vir glanced nervously around the room. Ti^ÒNar wondered if he was always so unsettled. ^ÓI suppose this means we^Òll be seeing more of each other,^Ô Ti^ÒNar ventured. ^ÓMaybe,^Ô Vir answered. ^ÓThough I doubt Londo is going to let me anywhere near Minbar in the near future. Delenn said it didn^Òt matter, my training could wait.^Ô ^ÓOh,^Ô Ti^ÒNar answered. Another long silence. ^ÓDelenn said I would probably only need a few weeks training,^Ô she offered. ^ÓThen I could come back here, if I wanted to.^Ô ^ÓThere will still be people trying to kill you,^Ô Vir reminded her. ^ÓI am - was - Inner Cirlce, Vir. People have been trying to kill me since I was born. When I^Òm not ill and starved, I can handle it pretty well.^Ô ^ÓOh,^Ô he said. Silence again. Then he picked up the box and handed it to her. ^ÓThese are - I mean, I thought you might need - and Londo won^Òt even miss - oh, here,^Ô he said, giving up on speech and just thrusting the box into her hands. She sat up slowly and with some difficulty, setting the box in her lap. She took off the lid and peeled away layers of thin shimmery cloth that were used as packing. She stared at the objects conceal within. A pair of boots. Londo Mollari shut off the comm unit with a sigh. Why did he always end up cleaning up everyone else^Òs mess? The news of Ti^ÒNar^Òs existance had spread throughout the station; there had been three riots in downbelow already. News would reach Centauri prime by the end of the day, if it hadn^Òt already. And he was left to handle some arrogant, overpaid assassin who hadn^Òt done his job properly, and yet was insisting that he receive compensation anyway. Not to mention the fact that Mr Garibaldi had managed to get voice i.d. on him, and Londo was somehow supposed to make sure that he escaped the station before Garibaldi caught him and charged him with attempted murder. As if he knew anything about smuggling assassins. It was utter madness. Londo wandered over to the counter to pour himself a drink. The counter was in perfect order, with an array of glasses set out. Very different from the condition he had left it in last night, after he found out that Sheridan was openly sheltering the Narn royal. He was keeping her in medlab, in plain sight of anyone who cared to look, with heavily armed guards posted at her bedside day and night. Londo had been furious, and then he had been dead drunk, and then he had passed out, and he certainly had not taken the time to straighten up the counter. Vir had been cleaning up after him again. He wasn^Òt sure whether he should be grateful or annoyed. He was never sure of anything with Vir, not anymore. Londo tried to remember being that young. He couldn^Òt. Oh, he had been Vir^Òs age once, but he didn^Òt think he had ever been so naive. Except that Vir wasn^Òt exactly naive. He knew precisely what he was doing. He knew it would eventually destroy him. And yet he did it anyway. That was not naivete, it was utter foolishness. It made no sense at all. Londo drained his glass, and set it back down on the counter, filled it again. He did not want to think of Vir. He did not want to think of anything, but especially not of himself, back when he was as young as Vir. Because the longer he thought about it, the more it made perfect sense. And the more sense it made, the more frightened he became. It had been a very long time since anyone had forced him to look in a mirror, and what he saw absolutely terrified him. Ambassador Delenn sat in her quarters, attempting to meditate. She could not. Too much had happened. In hindsight, she thought she might have been a little rash to make both Vir and Ti'Nar Rangers. The first Narn and the first Centuari on the same day. It would not go over well back home. Then again, she was beginning to think that nothing she did would go over well back home. But that was an entirely different issue. Exasperated, Delenn stood, put out the candle, turned the lights on. The sudden brilliance hurt her eyes. Then she swept out of the room. She hardly knew where she was going until she was already down in medlab. Ti'Nar was sleeping, looking as untroubled as a newborn. She really was very young, Delenn mused. Maybe not so young as Delenn had originally thought, but scarcely an adult anyhow. About how old Delenn had been, when she had been chosen to serve the Grey Council. She felt a little stir in the air, and turned around. Kosh was standing behind her. "Well?" she asked. "She is the open door," Kosh said, the sound of his voice like an entire choir. Then he turned and left. Delenn stared after him, then back a Ti'Nar. The open door. Delenn wondered what waited though that doorway. The end Well? What do you think? I'm thinking about doing another Vir/Ti'Nar story, I want to know if anyone would be interested in reading it. Thanks to everyone who helped me out with this, it wouldn't be the same story without you. -Lynne