From: "Suzene Del Toro" <roving_one@hotmail.com>
Subject: Prophecy Self-Fulfilled (Lennier/Spoilers Season 5&Objects at Rest)
Date: Sun, 07 May 2000 00:00:45 CDT

Disclaimer: Lennier, John, Delenn and Babylon 5 all belong to JMS, Warner 
Bros, and whoever else owns a piece of 'em. This story is mine. No money is 
being made.

MAJOR spoilers for season 5!!! Particularly 'Objects at Rest'. In fact, if 
you haven't seen that episode, this won't make much sense, as it's basically 
a rehash of the events when focussed on Lennier.

Spoiler space:


















Justification for this story's existance: Did anyone else here think that 
the coolant leak was just a little TOO conveniant? It wanted explaining.




		     Prophecy Self-Fulfilled
			by Suzene Campos

        Lennier glanced down at the chronometer, feeling the conflicting 
emotions of uncertainty and anticipation ripple though his stomach, but the 
only outward sign of his discomfort was the restless shifting of his fingers 
on the sleek black edge of the White Star's navigation panel. There was 
still a little time left before...
        He sensed more than heard the approach of his relief, turned and 
bowed in one continued movement before relinquishing the controls to the 
older Minbari. Lennier left the bridge in silence, heading towards the 
communal sleeping chamber used by most of the crew. While not particularly 
tired and fully aware that he could not risk falling asleep, the young 
Ranger felt that, in light of the task he had set before himself, meditation 
was certainly warranted.
        Among the banks of slanted beds, Lennier knelt, hands folded into a 
proper triangular shape, and attempted to center himself. In the dark behind 
shut eyelids, peace of mind was slow in coming, as it had been for many 
days. This worried him, but he held onto his conviction that he was doing 
the right thing. Rather, that he would be doing the best thing. For Delenn.
        They would be arriving on Minbar in less than forty-eight hours. If 
there was to be enough time for those aboard to adjust to the consequences, 
he would have to act soon.
        Again, that odd dualistic flutter of emotions distracted him. With a 
soft, resigned sigh, he opened his eyes. Perhaps, he thought, trying to 
shake off the sting of failure, tranquility was undesirable given the nature 
of his decision. He rose to his feet and left the room, pace as swift as his 
thoughts.
        All was in readiness, except that he half-wished that he could 
explain his actions to Delenn. Though he did this for her, he had no doubt 
that her initial pain would be great. If a few words, veiled heavily enough 
as to be inscrutable until after the fact, would assuage her grief... but 
no. Delenn's mind was far keener than his; he could not risk her 
understanding. And Sheridan...
        Lennier had been trying not to think of Sheridan since just after 
the human's... joining to Delenn. There was little doubt that the human was, 
in the way of his species, honorable. But, since the bonds had been 
formalized, Lennier had found more and more that his genuine admiration for 
Sheridan had been increasingly darkened by a relatively new bitterness that 
threatened to stir up and feed an old one. It was a frightening realization, 
but at least it served to
add impetus to his decision.
        Lennier paused and took note of his surroundings and frowned. He was 
not far from the galley. This was the wrong area. He turned and headed down 
a different corridor, slightly annoyed with himself. His feet should not 
have carried him so far away from his goal; he knew the basic layout of a 
White Star as well as he knew his own mind. He firmly quashed the wry voice 
that questioned how well he really knew the latter and walked faster to make 
up for time lost by his detour.
His thoughts resumed their prior path.
        Sheridan. It *was* a good thing that Sheridan was here. His recent 
ascension to the presidency, although deserved, was irrelevant. What was 
important was that he loved Delenn and that would serve to comfort her.
        The young Minbari didn't even bother to brace himself against the 
soul-deep ache as the reciprocal of that statement entered his mind 
unbidden: as Sheridan loved Delenn, Delenn loved Sheridan. And never any 
other...
        "And that is why this must be done," Lennier murmured softly. His 
own love of Delenn, his utter and complete devotion to her, so much more 
than the service expected of an acolyte and a passion unlike Anla'shok 
loyalty, was thrice forbidden. Relationships beyond the platonic between 
acolytes and those their mentors were not allowed; the disparity between the 
two positions would ever assure that one partner was in subordinate 
position. Even if that had not been
so, prophecy proclaimed that Delenn was destined for another, for the one 
that could never serve above or below her.
        All these first two facts did, however, was to provide a distraction 
from the third: that Delenn simply did not love him in that way. That was 
the true beginning and end of it.
        And he could not accept that.
        He had tried to live with that knowledge. He had tried to love her 
quietly, unobtrusively, serving at her side, but after the  joining, it had 
been too much. Minbari were considered stoics by the other races, but to 
live day in and day out with a knife constantly twisting within his heart 
was more than Lennier could bear. His options had been to leave or to blind 
and deafen himself... and
the latter, while dramatic, would seriously impair his ability to serve 
Delenn. The Anla'shok had offered him the opportunity to distance himself 
and keep true to his vow of service.
        It had not worked as he had hoped. Humans had a saying, that absence 
made the heart more fond. Lennier knew full well the truth of it now. He'd 
been drawn back to her again and again, like a vithrae to candleflame, and 
each time, it had become harder for him to keep his feelings hidden. And 
after that incident with the Centauri ships, after he'd confessed his love 
in a moment of desperate weakness, he knew that he must do something about 
the situation, lest he do
something truly disgraceful in the future.
        Anla'shok training was very thorough, but it had still taken Lennier 
some time to figure out a way to circumvent one minute section of the ship's 
self-repair system, nearly as long as it  had to find a valve leading into 
the coolant system that was far enough away from both frequented areas of 
the ship and the engines for him to feel comfortable timing a release on. A 
release due in a very few minutes.
        Lennier knew what they would think... that he had been trying to 
prove his worth to Delenn once more by attempting to repair the leak 
himself, that he'd simply stayed in too long and been overwhelmed by the 
fumes. A tiny trickle of amusement flowed into the increasingly turbulent 
current of his thoughts; it was from personal experience that he knew just 
how swiftly one could be overwhelmed. In all likelihood, he would be 
remembered as devoted and too foolishly eager to show just how devoted by 
carrying out the second part of the Anla'shok's pact with the Entil'zha. It 
would not matter what most thought. He would take the very possibility of 
his forbidden love dishonoring Delenn with him when he left this life, and, 
hopefully, meet her again with a cleaner soul in the next. He knew this to 
be the right choice, the honorable choice. There were many legends of
similar sacrifices, things far more difficult than simply giving up one's 
life, in the sacred scrolls of The Nine.
        So why was it so difficult to find peace as he walked this path?
	Lennier was startled out of his thoughts once more by the discordant 
chiming of the ship's alarm. For a moment, his dismay froze him in his 
tracks. The slap and patter of many soft-soled boots fleeing up an adjacent 
corridor brought him around and he poured his sudden desperation into his 
legs, running for all he was worth. In Valen's name, could he do nothing 
right? Why hadn't he moved faster instead of ambling along, lost in his own 
musings?
	Another realization hit him, nearly throwing him off of his stride. He'd 
disabled the hazard sensors and the automatic alarms in located in the 
immediate area. The only way that they could have sounded was if someone had 
hit the manual alarm... which meant that someone else had stumbled onto the 
leak. That someone else could be caught in the trap he'd laid out for 
himself.
	By the time he reached the weapon's systems access, Lennier's lungs were 
burning and his panicked heart was throwing itself against his ribs. He 
turned the final corner just in time to see the transparent containment door 
slide shut in front of two human figures trapped in the white fog being 
discharged from the access tube. The one in lighter garments stood over an 
obviously incapacitated Ranger, utterly focussed on aiding the downed man.
	The shame of what his actions had wrought flooded him, but there would be 
time for contrition later. There was a manual over-ride just outside of all 
containment doors on the ship. All that was required was...
	The standing human turned as Lennier approached and the Minbari felt the 
tangled confusion of his emotions swept away by pure, undiluted rage.
	It was him. *THAT* human! His mind, clouded with a fury that knew no 
boundaries, could come up with no other name for the creature than 
Starkiller. The human had taken his family from him, who had stood between 
Lennier and the woman who owned his soul, and now prevented him from even 
dying as he chose to!
	Starkiller was speaking, yelling at him.
	"Lennier! Hit the access panel!"
	In spite of their volume, the words seemed very small and far away. Very 
easy to ignore, even as he reached out to obey... and paused. Lennier knew 
that he could no more strike directly at the human than he could outright 
lie. But... inaction perhaps was the correct choice. Choosing not to reply 
instead of lying. Choosing not to act instead of attacking.
	Some small part of his mind seemed to recover just enough to recoil at that 
gross twisting of Temple teachings. The same part that now cried out in 
despair as Lennier withdrew his hand, turned, and began to walk away, each 
step quicker than the last, as though the disbelieving calls of Sheridan 
Starkiller were the howls of some beast on his trail.


	'What are you doing? WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!'
	Push on, keep going. Do not answer. Do not think. Do NOT think, whatever 
you do...
	'Do not do this thing! In Valen's name, turn around... go back!'
	Lennier felt the return thought, a primal bitter thing dredged up from the 
dark of his mind, surge in response to the frantic pleas of his conscience. 
'Valen was one of them! Valen was a human! I  will no more act in his name 
than I will in Starkiller's!'
	The new anger, the sense of spiritual betrayal finally acknowledged, and 
the fear of discovery were enough to keep him moving away from the scene of 
the crime for another few yards. New anger, however, was not enough to kill 
a lifetime of teaching.
	'All life is sacred. Have you forgotten that?'
	That alone might not have stilled him if the next thought had not come on 
its heels.
	'This is wrong! Delenn loves him...'
	He tried to hold on to his anger, but his resolve crumbled away. He 
stopped, brought to bay by his inner conflict.
	'Delenn loves him. Can you kill half of her soul? Can you hurt her that 
much and still claim to love her?'
	That was more than enough to tip the balance.
	"I can't!" Heedless of whether or not he had spoken aloud, Lennier turned 
and ran back the way he'd come, praying that he was not too late.
	There were others there by the time he had made it back to the join of the 
last corridor. A knot of technicians and healers were gathered around and he 
did not need to see what the focus of their attention was to know that they 
concealed Sheridan and the Ranger. Were they dead?
	The faint hope that perhaps Starkiller had not survived was the death-blow 
to Lennier's concept of self. And then a Healer moved aside, all but shoved 
away by Sheridan. Their eyes locked and Lennier knew... he could not explain 
how, but he KNEW... that Sheridan knew what he'd thought. And if there'd 
been any sort of weapon handy, Lennier had no doubt that his life would have 
ended at the hands of the human. There wasn't the faintest doubt in the 
young Minbari's mind that such a thing would be just, would be the only way 
to even begin to atone. He knew, with the sick certainty, now that he was 
beyond all redemption...
	"Lennier, what happened?"
	Delenn. He could not look at her, could not speak, even to confess.
	"What happened?!"
	She knew too. She had to know. And it was too much. He could face 
Sheridan's wrath, but not Delenn's disappointment. He could not bear to see 
her face or the hurt that he had caused. And once more, he was running and 
this time he would not stop...



	It was dark in space. That suited him fine. Enclosed in the stolen fighter 
that he felt would be his coffin, Lennier hung in the void, waiting. Waiting 
for things to get worse. Waiting for his air to run out. Waiting for the 
numbness of shock to wear off, for the full impact of what he'd done to 
destroy him from the inside out.
	It didn't happen. He couldn't seem to feel anything. Wouldn't let himself 
feel anything.
	He considered simply waiting here and letting his air run out. It would be 
a fitting death and proper... but only for what he had done to Sheridan. For 
the trust he had destroyed between himself and Delenn, there had to be 
greater atonement. And beyond that, suicide now would be only another form 
of running away. Dishonorable...
	The idea of protecting the foul shreds of any honor he had left struck him 
as humorous, but in a dark way that did not even summon the thought of a 
smile. Even that was eclipsed as thoughts of honor brought forth the 
realization that his actions had a greater scope than he had considered. His 
Clan and Fane and family would also be tainted by his actions...
	He could feel the numbness finally starting to dissipate and behind it was 
horrible grief. Shame. Quickly, as his vision began to blur and his throat 
began to swell shut, he entered a course into the fighter's navigational 
computer. Any place with a breathable atmosphere. He had to find someplace 
to think.
	Lennier lay his head down on his folded arms. He didn't even attempt to 
enter a meditative state, but was satisfied to let his mind scourge him with 
his failures. One was paramount above all others... if he had been more 
focussed, more diciplined, if he had not let those few wasted minutes slip 
away, he would not have come to the very disgrace and failure that he'd 
feared to begin with.

END