This story was based on the Babylon 5 universe by J. Michael Straczynski.
The Long Trial, Part One
Chapter 6:  Reunion
By R. Bernstein

The Minbari war-frigate Ingata sat off of the port bow like a great striped lionfish, 
bristling poison spines. The gun-ports were open. The Minbari ambassador 
arrived in time to notify C&C and an agitated Commander Sinclair, that the 
condition of the gun-ports was a symbol to recognize the death of one of their 
generals. Commander Sinclair sighed and agreed, to the consternation of his 
Chief of Security, to be present at the procession to greet the incoming funeral 
party. But, he was getting tired of mollifying diplomats. This was C&C, this was 
his command post, no civilian had a place here. And while he had been 
grateful that she had been there to explain the Minbari captainÕs effrontery, he 
was less than thrilled at who was being honored in this way. Shai Alyt Branmer, 
the man responsible for atomizing his entire team and thousands of others 
during the Battle of the Line, one of the most powerful generals in the Minbari 
military, had died suddenly of illness, while traveling. His second-in-command 
had taken it upon himself to honor his general in the style he saw fit, and was 
displaying the body to all the Minbari within the radius of their travels. 
Delenn left C&C irritated. She had managed to get Sinclair to attend the 
ceremony, only because of his obvious sense of diplomacy, but Alyt Neroon 
had done nothing to make that easier. Typical! To immediately begin relations 
with the Humans with a barely-veiled challenge, and this at a station where he 
expected to be hosted with courtesy! What was he thinking? Warriors! Branmer 
never would have approved of this, Star Rider or not! 
After years in service as a High Priest, Branmer had joined his fatherÕs caste 
and clan, the Warrior Caste Star Riders, during the War with the Humans. But 
when they were given the order to surrender, he had obeyed the order. And 
though he never agreed, he had never questioned the decision and had 
seemed to understand what was at stake in peace. He alone, of all of the 
Warrior Caste she could think of, had attempted to set up missions that would 
open up diplomatic relations between the Minbari and other worlds, despite his 
misgivings of Humans. His bellicose aide did not appear to share his point of 
view, and certainly did not display the same social grace. If Branmer had 
indeed been merely playing along with the Grey Council, and been, how did the 
Humans put it, Ôblowing smoke up their hindquartersÕ then Alyt Neroon had no 
intention of being so acquiescent, at least not where she was concerned. Grey 
Council or not, she knew he had always despised her. He made no secret of 
his opinion of her, of her apprenticeship to Dukhat, or of her appointment to the 
Grey Council. In fact he had pushed as far as he could in the expression of his 
view, almost to the point of disrespect to the Council, just after the end of the 
War with the Humans, with scathing criticism of any and every comment she 
made outside of Council chambers, reverting, of course, to impeccable 
decorum when directly questioned. He was brutally honest, but not completely 
without political savvy, and had backed off for a time, when he saw it was not 
working in his favor. And then he had re-doubled his political commentary and 
lobbying now that she was here on Babylon 5, reined in only by BranmerÕs 
mediation skills, and NeroonÕs unwavering respect for his commanding officer. 
But that calming influence was now gone. What would their encounter be like, 
she wondered. He would not openly disrespect a member of the Gray Council, 
even here, because it would certainly reach home, but she had a nasty feeling it 
was going to be a constant grueling struggle with him. He had been very close 
to Branmer and was not likely to be in the mood for anything except a fight, in 
one manner or another. If he were not permitted to strike at the Humans, then 
she would be the next most likely outlet for his hostility. 
She sighed and pushed the chime on Havah LasseeÕs door. She was not 
relishing this conversation either. She liked this young woman. Along with the 
Commander, she had been one of the most intriguing Humans Delenn had 
met. Their assessment of her at the Battle of the Line not only appeared to be 
unfolding as they believed it would, but she was an interesting blend of the 
incarnation that they had seen, and nothing at all what any of them would have 
expected. Observation of this woman and Sinclair were turning out to be one of 
the most interesting tasks she had ever undertaken. But underneath HavahÕs 
friendliness, she sensed a distrust, an aloofness, a cold silent watcher. Well, I 
suppose that I cannot blame her. Did we think that a warrior would not notice 
sooner or later that she was being observed? Sometimes, she sensed the 
same quality in Sinclair, although he was more practiced at masking it. 
Havah answered, smiling but looking harried. "Ambassador. Is there 
something I can do for you?"
She stepped into HavahÕs office, peering curiously at the wreckage of paper 
and electro-pads, and the cartoons stuck akimbo on the walls with blue fun-
tack. 40 Things YouÕll Never Hear a Texan SayÉWhat is a Texan? The Addams 
FamilyÉWhy does the little girlÕs doll have no head? Could they not get her a 
new doll? There is an extra hand in the drawingÉ She pulled her attention away 
and returned to HavahÕs bemused gaze. "I do not know if you were aware, but 
one of our generals, Shai Alyt Branmer has died. It happened a week ago en 
route to the Euphrates sector. His aide has brought the body here to honor him. 
The ceremony will be later, and the cortege is preparing to board soon. I 
understand that you are very busy, but since you were one of the soldiers to 
stand against him on the Line, it would mean a great deal to the Minbari aboard 
the station, as a sign of mutual respect and desire for peace, if you would be 
present when they arrive, to honor his passing. Commander Sinclair and the 
command staff are assisting with the preparations for the ceremony. Please 
attend."
The womanÕs whole body language changed, from distraction, to that closed 
quiet regard. She answered icily, her back rigid. "IÕll be there, Ambassador. 
When?" The use of the formal address, was now intentional and distancing, 
while before it had been merely automatic and respectful.
"They will arrive in half an hour, so I must prepare for their arrival in docking bay 
12."
"Very well, I will see you there."
Delenn bowed and Havah bowed back, precisely the same duration and depth. 
Delenn had noticed that when this woman was angry, she often grew more 
formal, and quieter. Far more disconcerting than someone who blustered their 
opinions to anyone listening. It is often the quiet ones who are the most 
dangerous, she thought. This one certainly was during the War. No one looking 
at her would have suspected that she could have killed so many of our soldiers, 
particularly not in ground combat. She was half the size of most of them and 
had to have been less than half the strength, considering her humanity. And 
yetÉthere were times when Delenn could have sworn that this woman was 
Minbari, if it had not been for her wild black hair and casual manner. She even 
had facial features that seemed more characteristic of DelennÕs people than 
most Humans, the brow-ridge mostly. Delenn left to prepare, shaking off the 
discomfort of the interchange.
Frag! Havah thought, staring at the DelennÕs receding back. I have stuff to do, 
but now I have to put it off to cater to a group of people that I hoped never to see 
again for the rest of my life, in order to honor someone who tried to destroy 
everyone and everything I care about. How is that fair?! What exactly is the 
definition of diplomacy? Doormat!? Well, if it really means that much to the 
Minbari, I guess it would be a good idea not to alienate them at this point. Just 
what we need! A shipload of grieving xenophobic Minbari warriors running all 
over the station. I remember what happened the last time they lost someone 
they respected. But they had damn well better appreciate the gesture and how 
much it costs us to do this. They may have surrendered, but surrender isnÕt an 
expression of remorse, and itÕs also not a resolution to not repeat the same 
actions. And I wonÕt trust them until that occurs. Surrender, my ass! People who 
truly surrender donÕt make as many demands as they have made. And I was 
there. If they surrendered, it wasnÕt because they were losing. Havah slammed 
the pad down on the desk and flounced out of the room towards docking bay 
12. She was going to see the area before they got there and scope out a place 
where she could be out of the way, and maybe slip away and return to work 
unnoticed.
* * * * * * * * 
YouÕre lucky that my guns were not aimed at your inconsequential little station, 
Commander! Neroon thought savagely, with particular sarcasm concerning the 
address of Commander. ItÕs bad enough that the Shai Alyt is dead, but to be 
surrounded by those barely-sentient beasts for days, will be taxing at best. And 
thinking of taxing, DukhatÕs chosen brat would be there. He had respected 
Dukhat greatly, but no one he knew had understood DukhatÕs choice in an aide. 
It wasnÕt just that she was Religious Caste. Dukhat had been Religious Caste, 
so it was not surprising that he chose someone from his own caste, but HER, 
that impudent child?! Not only was she sheltered, useless, and spoiled, but 
she was imperious and arrogant, and would drive them all to ruin with her 
flaunting of tradition and obvious disregard for the counsel of seasoned military 
officers, and lack of appreciation for the sacrifices of the Warrior Caste! She 
had no understanding of such things, and made no attempt to. She had 
demonstrated this by her behavior during the war with the Humans. Satai! And 
ambassador! What have we resorted to?! Still, Branmer must be honored, and 
there are Minbari here who deserve to see him one last time, if only as a 
bastion of former Minbari integrity before it disappears completely in a puff of 
Religious Caste incense. He finished the preparations for boarding, stomach 
growling from his fast. If they attempt to sabotage this mission, they will not live 
to regret it, and this time there will be no reprieve.
Minbari Warrior Caste ceremonies were nothing like the obtuse understated 
ceremonies of their Religious Caste. They were direct. The insistent drums 
and almost-Oriental lyre-like instrument kept a simple military pace for the pall-
bearers, carrying a crafted crystal coffin, preceded by lower-ranking standard-
bearers. Before and after the coffin, the standard-bearers lifted flags with the 
sigil the generalÕs clan, as they approached the waiting by-standers. Following 
the first standard-bearers and before the coffin, stalked a man with the uniform 
of an officer, the generalÕs aide, the shipÕs captain. Havah peered through a 
small crowd at the approaching coffin and wondered what Branmer had looked 
like. She had never seen this man, the bane of her existence, on the Line. 
Maybe Delenn had been right, that this was a good idea, not just for the Minbari, 
but for the Humans who had had to face this man. Here he is dead, proof that 
he was just as vulnerable as the rest of us, his power reduced to clay, just like 
any other Human. She couldnÕt see him though, just a blurry shadow in the 
frosted coffin. She glanced up at BranmerÕs officer who approached with his 
black hood up. All he needed was a mask and he could have doubled as an 
executioner of old France. His face. There was something about his face, about 
the line of his jaw. His eyes were in the shadow of the hood. She watched him 
as he passed and approached Delenn, and the command staff farther away, 
and removed his hood to speak. And then she knew. The eyes, that was what 
always got her about faces, if nothing else sparked her talent at recognition. 
She knew those eyes, the same coal black as hers, the same deep-set 
intensity. They were the eyes that had stared at her from the sketches in her 
drawer. This was the face of the man her mother had drawn, the man her 
mother had believed must be her father. This man who had been the officer of 
the general who had destroyed thousands of Humans in one battle, it was his 
blood that coursed through her. Her knees almost buckled, and she leaned 
back against the bulk-head until her legs regained their steadiness. A couple of 
Minbari looked at her curiously.
"Excuse me, IÕm sorry, do you happen to know the name of the soldier that just 
went by, the officer?"
"That is Alyt Neroon. He isÉwas the second in command of the Ingata, Shai 
Alyt BranmerÕs primary ship. He was BranmerÕs aide."
"OhÉdo you happen to know his family name, I mean, his aide?"
"I believe he is from the family of Callier, but I am not certain."
She had heard that before, or seen it. No one would notice if she was gone, so 
she went back to her quarters and pulled out the sketches again. It was him. 
The face of BranmerÕs officer was haggard with strain, and older than he had 
appeared in the sketch, but thirty years had passed and the structure of his face 
was the same. The eyes were unmistakable. She located the tiny name at the 
bottom of one of them. Neroon Calear. DAMN! She looked up into the mirror, at 
the haunted black eyes that stared back at her, shadowed slightly by the bone 
ridge at her nose. She analyzed her features. She had her motherÕs aquiline 
Semitic nose and her sable hair, but most of the rest of her face was from him, 
square jaw, dark eyes, although hers were larger, like her motherÕs. HavahÕs 
skin was swarthier than his, a true combination in genome between his pale 
skin and her motherÕs darkness. Her motherÕs ancestors would have thought 
of him as a djinn, a daemon, and maybe thatÕs what he was, having been 
responsible for the death of thousands of her motherÕs kind. ÔDaughter of a 
demon-lover, empress of the hidden face,Õ thatÕs how the old Rush song went, 
didnÕt it? The ExecutionerÕs daughter. And no one knew, no one could possibly 
tell by looking at her, without prior knowledge. She had no crest wreathing her 
head. She reached up to the mirror and traced her fingers down the image 
reflected there, then pulled her hair out of the pony-tail holder she always wore, 
and let it spill down around her arms and back. Parted in the middle and all 
one length, it looked like a heavy black satin veil with little wisps escaping from 
the rest and curling around her temples like frayed edges. She had thought that 
she wanted to know more about her father, and now she did. She really 
couldnÕt complain could she? 
Well, I really need to know for sure. All I have are sketches, and a name in a 
thirty-year old journal. I need to know for sure, scientifically. How the hell am I 
going to get that?! I would need to have someone test my DNA and his. No one 
knows that my father was Minbari, and if anyone knew that it was himÉI canÕt 
exactly walk up to that Minbari officer and ask him to stick a swab in his mouth! 
He was wearing gloves. Does he wear those all the time? If not, I could dust 
where heÕs been for skin flakes. That would be enough. And what the hell am I 
going to do with this information if I get it anyway? ItÕs pretty obvious that telling 
him that IÕm his kid, if that is true, is not an option.  Not only is his reaction likely 
to be negative in a variety of ways, but what would that do to either one of us if 
anyone else found out? What are the penalties for such things on his world? I 
know what they would be on mine. Hatred, discrimination. And while I donÕt 
know if I could ever come to terms with our respective pasts, I didnÕt come here 
to ruin his life. Whatever he did ten years ago, he did save my motherÕs life. 
Maybe there is some explanation, but I doubt if either of us will ever get to a 
point where IÕll get to hear it, Havah mourned. There were two messages 
waiting, which she had ignored. She told the computer to play messages. The 
first one displayed the face of the counselor. She deleted the message before 
more than her name could escape the counselorÕs lips. The second was from 
her mother, berating her for having failed to call or write as she had asked 
Havah to do when the package arrived. Crap! I meant to callÉ
"This is your mother, being hurt and angry. I know that you are busy, and I know 
that you are probably angry with me because of the journal, but I didnÕt know 
what else to do! I did the best that I could, and sometimes I could only guess at 
what that was. And IÕm just your mother, and I love you, and all I can do is try my 
best to make you happy. You are so far away, and even when youÕre here, you 
are so distant. And all I can do is worry, you know. I asked you just to call once, 
even if you leave a message. For all I know the package is lost! It was Rosh 
Hashannah and you never called, it was Yom Kippur and you never 
calledÉYou have no idea what this does to me to not even hear from you on 
the High Holy Days!"  The face on the screen crumpled into tears. Oh boy, 
Havah thought. She stored the rest of the long, long message and called her 
mom. Her mom answered, the rims of her eyes still red.
"Mom, IÕm really sorry. IÕm not angry at you, not at all, I justÉIÕm just a moron 
and I forgot." No, that didnÕt come out right, I didnÕt mean that I forgotÉ "Not 
about youÉI  meanÉI justÉtime got away from me. It always does, itÕs always 
been like that, I didnÕt mean that IÉ*sigh*. I love you too, mom. IÕm sorry I didnÕt 
call. The package got here fine, and thank you for sending it and the pictures of 
you and dadÉand all the newspaper clippings. Are you ok?"
Mrs. Goldman sniffled. "Yes, IÕm fine, better now that IÕm hearing from my 
daughter. IÕm sorry I lost my cool on your message machine. You know I donÕt 
like to do that, and I hesitate to call because I want to give you your space, I was 
just feeling very hurt."
"*Sigh*, I know, mom, that came through loud and clear. I am sorry. IÕll try to call 
more often, itÕs just hard with the time difference and all. I donÕt mind any time 
you want to call, youÕre not intruding. I have several thousand light years of 
space, thatÕs plenty. Babylon 5 was just a great opportunity, itÕs not like I was 
escaping. I know thatÕs what you think, but I like it here."
"I know."
"How are Dad and Tovah? You said that dad lost weight. How is Tovah liking 
Peabody?"
"Your father has been working so hard! ItÕs amazing, he has so much more 
energy now, IÕll put him on in a few minutes. Tovah likes some of her classes, 
and others not so much. She met a very nice young man! IÕll give you her 
number in Baltimore so that you can call and congratulate herÉ"
No phone-call like this was ever a few minutes, but that was alright. Somehow, 
talking to the people who had always been her family, had been just what she 
needed. A slight line rolled across the screen, barely visible, but these little 
technological blips annoyed her, especially when she was paying for a good 
connection. She tapped the screen irritably. As if that would help. Why was it 
that she could never get a decent connection, no matter where she was, at the 
university in New York, or Colorado. A slight shiver raised bumps on her arms. 
Interference. She shook off unease. After the call, she decided to ring her sister 
later, and put a sticky-note on the screen to remind herself. She took a last 
glance at the sketches and the picture of her mother and put them away, 
resolving to learn more about this mysterious warrior, more about his caste, 
since it was obvious that caste in Minbari society seemed to be a defining 
characteristic. Caste was an odd concept to her, and while she knew of castes 
on Earth, and even had known of a loose system in the culture she had been 
raised with, she had not lived it.  She wanted to know more. But she didnÕt want 
to approach Alyt Neroon. There was a ceremony to be held tomorrow, so she 
went to SinclairÕs office, knowing that he would be going. On the way, she 
almost walked into the very object of her fascination. He looked as though he 
was going to snap someoneÕs head off with a single gloved hand. She stood 
back and let him pass, his two security men striding behind him. They didnÕt 
look friendly either. She tentatively peeked into the CommanderÕs office. He 
was there with Garibaldi, and neither of them looked cheerful. 
"Hi. Is this a bad time?"
"Yes and no. ItÕs not going to be a good time until Shai Alyt BranmerÕs escort 
has left the station. Come in." 
"OhÉthat bad? I saw Alyt Neroon leaving here. He wasnÕt looking too amiable. 
Did something happen?"
The commander sighed and Garibaldi rolled his eyes and ran his fingers 
through his spiky hair, giving her a ÔYou wouldnÕt believe it,Õ look. Garibaldi 
spoke, "He demanded his own security on the room where theyÕre keeping 
Branmer. Said he didnÕt want ÔHumansÕ," he curled his lip in imitation of 
NeroonÕs snarl, "interfering with his staff! Started trying to provoke us, obviously, 
talking about the Line! IÕm telling you, this guyÕs spoiling for a fight."
"Last I checked this was still our damn station," the Commander said irascibly, 
"butÉweÕre trying to be diplomatic and show them courtesy. They are grieving 
after all." He gave Michael a sedate look. "And frankly, I donÕt have the time to 
engage in a pissing contestÉWhat can I do for you, Havah?"
"EhÉwow. I just wanted to find out more about the ceremony and everything. 
Considering everything going on, I didnÕt want to ask the Ambassador. My 
guess is sheÕs got her hands full too, and IÕd rather ask you anyway."
Sinclair laughed, dark face lightening. "I donÕt blame you. The ceremony is 
going to be in the Green Room tomorrow at 1000 hours. HeÕs lying in state in 
Conference Room A down the hall from there, but I would recommend avoiding 
it. Garibaldi is right, it does look like theyÕre spoiling for a fight, and no one 
needs that headache."
"Thanks." She left. And headed for the Conference Room. They had just told her 
to avoid it, she knew, but she wasnÕt going to get in their way, she just wanted 
to look at the security men. She had never seen a Minbari soldier that close, 
who was not trying to kill her, although that might change if she wasnÕt careful. 
And now, curiosity was consuming her. Maybe GÕKar was right about humans 
having to stick their fingers into everything just to see the reaction. Two black-
clad warriors flanked the door, like marble statues. She guessed that they were 
not supposed to react, any more than the Beefeaters that guarded Buckingham 
Palace. But these soldiers looked meaner. She stifled the urge to wave at 
them, or snap in their faces just to see if they would blink. But she had the nasty 
suspicion that they would shoot out an arm, quick as a flyÕs tongue and rip her 
trachea out before she could say ÔGotcha!Õ She just stood for a few minutes 
looking at them, studying the details of their uniforms and facial features. A 
rough hand clapped down on her shoulder and whirled her around, and she 
found herself staring into the face of the angry Alyt. "You have no business here, 
Human! You had better explain your presence here!" His eyes bored into her, 
and his iron hand dug into her elbow. 
Her eyes were wide, staring into his, trying to read anything in their depths. Her 
knees were shaking. She had been startled, and when she answered, her 
voice was tremulous. "Sorry. IÕve never seen a Minbari soldier that close before, 
I was just curious."
The muscles of his cheek twitched and his lips barely moved in a face rigid 
with antipathy.  His voice was deep and scathing. "Curiosity was nearly a fatal 
trait for your race ten years ago, did you think you would fare better this time?!" 
She blinked. What the hell was she supposed to say to that? What had she 
thought an encounter with him was going to be like? "NÑnoÉIÕm sorryÉfor 
your loss. I donÕt know what else to say." 
He looked into her eyes, and moved so that his body blocked the other two 
security men, glowering down at her, breastplate an inch from her nose.  "Say 
nothing, I am not interested in your words. Do not show your face here again." 
She backed away and left. That could have gone better, she thought, elbow 
smarting where heÕd gripped it. She went to her quarters and didnÕt go out for 
the rest of the night. 
* * * * * * * * 
Horrid little beast! What in ValenÕs name was she doing here, staring at my 
men?! Who is she?! Neroon thought vehemently. And this, immediately after I 
expressed that no one but Minbari are to come near this area! Is this the kind of 
ineptitude that we can expect from Ôstation securityÕ or was this an intentional 
violation, out of spite?! Either way, it will not occur again. He strode 
determinedly towards GaribaldiÕs office. Perhaps I did not make myself clear. I 
will not abide Shai Alyt Branmer being disrespected in this manner. He shook 
his head and lit into Garibaldi as soon as their eyes met. 
The man looked as though he would have slipped away, if there had been any 
way of doing so. But this issue was not to be ignored. "Mr. Garibaldi! I specified 
that there were to be no Humans in the area where Shai Alyt BranmerÕs body 
was lying in state. And so the first thing I saw, in attending to the arrangements, 
was a Human woman, gawking at the men I set on guard! There had better be 
a sufficient explanation!"
Garibaldi bristled at NeroonÕs tone. "Look, Alyt Neroon, I canÕt give you an 
explanation unless you give me more details. Why donÕt you tell me what she 
looked like."
"She looked like a Human, Mr. Garibaldi, very much like other Humans!"
Garibaldi sighed, "Hair color, height, weight, any distinguishing 
characteristics?"
"Small woman, long blackÉhair, is that what you call it?  All the way down her 
back. She was wearing a long brown skirt with embroidery at the hem."
Garibaldi sighed again. Dammit! He knew exactly who that had been. Havah! 
What the hell was she thinking!? They had just told her not to go there. Was she 
trying to cause problems, trying to start another war? Trying to give him 
heartburn? "Alyt Neroon, IÕm very sorry. I know who it was, and I know she was 
just curiousÑ"
"Really!" He drawled sarcastically. "And as I told her, curiosity got your people 
killed ten years ago, I would advise that you take a lesson from that! And how 
many other ÔcuriousÕ Humans am I going to find when I return? I will not be as 
generous with them as I was with this woman."
"Hold it right there, Alyt! I hope that wasnÕt a threat. Whatever you think of 
Humans or our hospitality, I am here to keep the peace, and if I find it 
necessary, I will have you thrown in the brig as a matter of security! I donÕt want 
to do that, youÕre being an Ôhonored guestÕ and all, but I will!"
Neroon walked up into GaribaldiÕs space and stood nose to nose. "Do not 
assume that you could, Mr. Garibaldi."
Garibaldi didnÕt budge an inch, and his eyes never wavered from NeroonÕs dark 
gaze. "We will do whatever we have to, Alyt. But we have been trying to help."
"We donÕt need your help! Keep your people out of my way. It was a simple 
requirement. Are you so incompetent that you cannot attend to it?! If you know 
her, then what is her name?"
"Alyt, I wonÕt have you intimidating herÑ"
"Her name!"
"I donÕt take orders from you, Alyt! Look, IÕm pretty damn sure that sheÕs too 
freaked out by you to come near any of you again. I will talk to her for you and 
make sure she understands." 
"She had better, or I will assume that any continued harassment is an 
indication of your lack of respect." He turned and stalked down the corridor. 
Michael watched his long coat wave, and wished he hadnÕt gotten out of bed. 
What did I tell Jeff, nothing but trouble.
* * * * * * * * 
At 1800 hours, Garibaldi paid her a visit. He was looking imminently annoyed. "I 
thought we told you to stay away from there. I just got a visit from our favorite 
Minbari, and he tried to tell me what they were going to do if he found another 
Human near the conference room. I donÕt take threats on my station, but I 
shouldnÕt have had to defend you! What the hell were you thinking?! ItÕs bad 
enough that we have to cater to this guy, but I didnÕt think weÕd have to baby-sit 
you too!"
Havah wanted to cry. "Yeah, I know, IÕm sorry. I just..I was just really curious. I 
canÕt explain whyÉI, it was stupid, and I wonÕt do it again." Her eyes filled with 
tears. Crap, donÕt do this now, Havah, she thought. 
GaribaldiÕs reaction was similar. "No, no, donÕt do that. WhatÕs going on with 
you lately? I know I donÕt know you very well, but weÕve been in meetings 
together, and Jeff talks about you sometimes. He thinks youÕre really smart, 
and put-together, so whatÕs going on? Is it the War? I know you were there. You 
know, I know this counselor thatÕs really greatÑ"
Why is it that everyone always suggests counseling, am I that looney? I guess 
latelyÉ"NoÉIÕm ok. I guess it is the War. But IÕve been to counselors and they 
donÕt work for me. Thanks though. I wonÕt flake out anymore. IÕm just going to 
stay here tonight. I was asked to go to the ceremony tomorrow, but IÕll hang in 
the back and then go back to work. IÕll stay away from them until they leave."
"Alright. Well, consider yourself notified. If you want to go out for a drink and talk, 
just give me a ring. Or if you change your mind and want the number of that 
counselor." He left and she buried her face in her hands, and then flipped on 
the TV/vid com and watched mindless sit-coms all night. 
* * * * * * * * 
At 2400 hours, Delenn handed the triluminary to the acolytes awaiting her 
orders, with a hand she barely prevented from visibly trembling. She was 
through with accepting this treatment of Branmer. How could they disobey his 
last wishes like this? It was a defilement. One could explain it no other way, 
and it must not continue. All he had ever wanted was a peaceful end, to float 
among the stars, not to be trapped in a glass box and displayed like some 
horrid piece of meat! How could Neroon think of this as honoring him?! Only a 
warrior could imagine such a thing! It was far too convenient for the Star Riders 
to completely forget that Branmer had been religious. He had a spiritual soul, 
could they not see that?! She saw his quirky half-smile briefly. He never wanted 
any of this, he only became a warrior because it was required of the times. For 
the past few days, she had seen him in every Minbari male, ambling around a 
corner, as though she could recognize the back of his head-bone anywhere. 
But when the given man turned slightly, it was not Branmer, and the illusion 
was gone. Almost as though he were telling her in his own subtle way what he 
wanted, and it was not this.  No, this is finished, her heart pounded. If anyone 
finds outÉbut this must be done, no matter what the others say. He wanted to 
be spread among the stars, and he shall have it. It does not behoove anyone 
else to deny him his last wishes. If the Star Riders do find out, and wish to 
challenge this, then they can answer to all of us as to why they would deny their 
own general his wishÉShe instructed the acolytes in the use of the triluminary 
to immobilize the guards, and let them go. She sank down on a chair and 
waited for their return.
* * * * * * * * 
Havah really didnÕt even want to get up the next day, but she dragged herself to 
work, and stood in the back for the ceremony. She was glad, for once, that she 
was short. She was only attending because Delenn had presented it as a 
gesture of respect, but there were people there she had no desire to see. 
Everyone really. Against any rationality, she had hoped for a different response 
from Neroon. But his reaction had not been unexpected. They were the most 
insular people she had ever met, and if he had known that she fought in the 
War, his reaction probably would not have been as restrained. But still, 
somewhere in her mind, she had sustained that childhood wish that she would 
meet her real father and magically, he would recognize her and express his 
desire to be part of her life. Garbage. The procession went by, and she heard 
NeroonÕs resonant voice. She couldnÕt see what happened next, but a few 
moments went by, and then chaos. The body of the Shai Alyt was missing.
Oh no. The command staff went by with the Minbari procession in disarray, 
heading for SinclairÕs office. Milling people were herded away from the area by 
security, and a perimeter was set up to prevent further intrusion. The body of the 
Minbari general was missing, in spite of heavy guard by Minbari security and a 
sealed room, accessible only through the guarded entrance. A million thoughts 
were flashing through peopleÕs minds, audible in shocked exclamations. Was 
it theft? An act of spite? Who, why, and not least, how? She left, knowing that 
there would be an investigation and that with all of the commotion, there was 
no further reason for her to be there. 
* * * * * * * * 
A tense conversation took place within the CommanderÕs office. Both 
Ambassador Delenn and Alyt Neroon were breathing down his neck in outrage 
at what had happened, and demanding answers. Sinclair had none to give 
them. Neroon insinuated that his clan would take matters into their hands if the 
situation was not resolved. No way was Sinclair going to stand for that on his 
station, but before the situation could get out of control, Ambassador Delenn 
stepped in and reprimanded the Alyt. Sinclair hadnÕt even known that she had 
the power to do such a thing, where a military officer was concerned. She 
strode towards the door and a flummoxed Neroon faltered, and then stalked 
after her. Clearly something had happened, some interchange neither 
Garibaldi nor Sinclair understood, but all that mattered was that they had to find 
that body, and do it before DelennÕs tenuous influence over the angry warrior 
waned. 
That little gokh! He could scarcely believe that she had spoken so to him, 
humiliated him, and in front of the Humans! Unforgivable! This is becoming so 
characteristic of the Religious Caste, mindless of anyone but their own point of 
view, contemptuous of the very soldiers who protect their world and their 
temples! He followed her like a giant silent shadow to her quarters, refusing to 
engage in a dispute in front of any off-worlders. As soon as the doors shut, he 
exploded into indignation. 
"DO you have so little respect for Shai Alyt Branmer, or for your own Warrior 
Caste that you would allow these Humans to conduct an investigation of the 
very crime that it is likely that they themselves perpetrated?! And to speak of our 
policy in such a manner, in front of them!Ñ"
"Which I would not have had to do, if you had been acting reasonably! I am as 
shocked about this disappearance as you. You were not the only one close to 
him! He was a priest before he was Shai Alyt and he was my friend as well! 
How dare you speak to me as though I am disrespecting him, and as though 
the warriors are the only ones who cared for him!"  
Neroon paused. He had been ready to blast right through her pompous little 
explanations, and her ignorant perception of ÔreasonableÕ, but her eyes and 
body language were tortured. She looked as though she were ready to 
collapse. He had been so angry with her, but perhaps he could afford to relent, 
this once. She had also been BranmerÕs friend after all, that was true. Although, 
like her bond with Dukhat, he could certainly never understand why. In any 
case, he was still cross. Why should I allow this event to be so badly 
blundered, by her impudence! I donÕt care if she is Grey Council! She should 
have known better. Is this what the Grey Council has become? Still, I do not 
wish to be the one to make the ÔSataiÕ collapse. That would serve no purpose. 
"Very well, I will allow this ÔinvestigationÕ without further protest, but it will be 
done to my satisfaction. That much, I demand for the sake of the Shai Alyt, and 
if you do Ôcare for himÕ, as you say you do, you will not oppose me in this." He 
turned on his heel and left before she could answer. There was no further 
answer required. He would start with gathering more information, particularly 
about the peculiar little woman who had been staring at his soldiers before the 
body disappeared. She hadnÕt seemed inclined to commit such a crime, but 
Humans were not above lying, and people can act in any way they wish to 
appear. She hadnÕt seemed particularly capable of such a feat. Either one of 
his guards could have broken her across their knees with barely a shift in 
motion, but her timing was unlikely to have been a coincidence. So perhaps 
she had been involved in some way. He tracked down Mr. Garibaldi at his 
office. Garibaldi barely masked his displeasure at the appearance of Neroon, 
but did not appear surprised.
"Mr. Garibaldi, I wish to know what you are doing to conduct this investigation. 
Since my men are not to be involved," he sneered angrily, " You have been 
assigned to it, and since it concerns us, we have every right to know the 
manner in which this will be carried out."
Garibaldi sighed. "Well, Alyt, weÕre starting with a general search of the room he 
was in to see if there were any traces left behindÑ"
"What about living quarters? What about the suspicious woman loitering 
around the guards yesterday? You will investigate her presence there, of 
course?"
"Alyt, I really donÕt thinkÑ"
"Mr. Garibaldi, I do not care what you think! If you are going to conduct this 
investigation properly, you will make certain that she is questioned and her 
quarters searched, since she is obviously suspectÑ"
"Alyt, I have been doing investigation and security for nine years, I donÕt need 
you or anyone else telling me how to do an investigation on my own damn 
station. Now I understand that you are angry, and I understand that you want 
this resolved, but I am asking you to trust me. The only way I can get this done 
is to be left alone to work it out, ok?! IÕll question her, and IÕll search her 
quarters for all of the good I think it will do, I really doubt that sheÕs involved. But 
you have to back off and let me do my job the way we know how to do it. I 
promise you IÕll keep you updated on anything that we find. Anything that we 
find, youÕll be the first to know, alright?" 
"I will await your ÔupdatesÕ Mr. Garibaldi."  He stormed away and Garibaldi 
slammed his hand against the desk, envisioning NeroonÕs face. Dammit, this 
guyÕs really getting on my nerves!
* * * * * * * * 
After the door slid shut, Delenn collapsed onto the couch, sobbing. This is 
intolerable. It was bad enough that they had lost Branmer, but NeroonÕs tirades 
were becoming more and more uncontrollable. He was the most intractable 
person she had ever seen, and what now? If he kept going like this, he would 
find out what had happened, and so would Sinclair and the others. There was 
no question in her mind as to the rightness of what she had done, but it was 
not likely that the Humans would understand, and the delicate trust she had 
been building with Jeffrey Sinclair, would very likely be damaged. Everything 
she had been working towards would come crashing down, all because 
Neroon had to have things the way the Star Riders wanted them, as if they were 
the only ones in the galaxy! And then, there were the warriors. Their obedience 
to her orders, as one of the Grey Council, had been marginal at best, but 
nowÉthat relationship was dissolving as each minute went by. She must 
regain control of the situation. She must have a united response. She went over 
to the uplink and connected with Minbar, summoning one of the other religious 
Council members, to explain the situation. The Grey Council must act as one in 
this matter if she was to intervene, and she required ordersÉand a friendly 
voice.
* * * * * * * * 
Havah returned to work, wondering what the investigation would reveal, 
wondering what could have happened. I saw those guards. What the hell could 
have gotten past them? Unless someone had already been in the room when 
the Shai Alyt was placed there, but then, how the hell could the person have 
gotten out past them, with a body in tow? Garibaldi showed up a couple hours 
later. Havah wasnÕt terribly surprised. 
"IÕm guessing you know why IÕm here."
"Because the body is missing and you think I have something to do with it."
"I donÕt. But the fun-filled Minbari Tower of Joy does. IÕm leading the 
investigation, and he demanded that you be questioned and your quarters be 
searched. He wanted to do it himself, but I said Ôno wayÕ. So here I am. We can 
talk here or somewhere else, but IÕm letting you know that your quarters will be 
gone through." He smiled mirthlessly.
Havah banged her forehead on the desk. "Thanks. What do you want to ask 
me?"
Garibaldi grilled her about every detail of where she had been all day, before 
and after the incident the previous day, and then again today. After he left, she 
sighed and threw a pad against the wall. I hope they find the body and LEAVE!
* * * * * * * * 
Jensen came up to the security chief, carrying a few rolled up sheets of paper 
and a bound cloth book. "You might want to have a look at this, Chief. I found it 
in Havah LasseeÕs quarters."
Damn! I donÕt need this right now, he thought. He really didnÕt want to have to 
arrest her. He took the book and papers. The papers were pencil drawings, old 
ones. Of Neroon. That much was obvious, and the name was right on the 
bottom of one of them. Some of them were nudes. What the hell! I really hope 
that she doesnÕt have a crush on this guy! But it would explain her reaction as far 
as the War. It gave a lot of people some pretty weird reactions to Minbari. But 
that doesnÕt seem right either, these sketches look too old. And the name isnÕt in 
HavahÕs handwriting. No one needed to be an expert to recognize her scrawl. 
HavahÕs writing took up entire lines for a few words. But this handwriting was 
precise and compact. He opened the book. The picture inside the cover caught 
his eyes. A real looker, and she looks a little like Havah. He took the book to 
his office and started poring. It was obviously a journal, also not in HavahÕs 
handwriting. He read the whole thing, not believing what he was reading, and 
then read it again. HavahÕs name wasnÕt mentioned anywhere, butÉShe was 
the child. She had to be. This woman looked like Havah. He knew that Havah 
was a half-breed, maybe the only known half-breed, the only normal one 
anyway, although normal was relative after yesterday. That meant that Neroon 
was her father. Why else would she have this? He went back through her 
quarters, and found the note from her mother. IÕll be damned! SheÕs half 
Minbari! He looked again at the pictures of Neroon. I guess I can see it a little. 
Same eyes and jaw, ridge above the nose. HowÕd she get away with not having 
a bone? Well, that explains her reaction. She said she couldnÕt explain why she 
was there. She knows. She knows and wanted to see him. So what now, IÕm not 
a family therapist. Boy, this womanÕs just full of surprises. I really donÕt need any 
more surprises today. 
The rest of her quarters had been searched, with nothing found. Not that he 
had really expected to, but part of him had been hoping for some idea, some 
lead. Man, itÕs too much to ask that things be simple, just once. He glanced 
around. She had a spare sense of decoration, barely anything up on the walls 
but a big woven wire spider-web, a dream-catcher hung on the wall over her 
bed, and papers and socks scattered everywhere. She read a lot, because 
piles of books were lying on every possible surface. There were Mardi Gras 
beads draped across the mirror, and gauzy scarves and business dresses 
strewn over the back of a chair. 
He went to her office and found her sitting on the floor with piles of pads around 
her. He leaned on the lintel and then stepped carefully between the piles to 
hand her the book and sketches. She looked at him warily as her fingers 
closed around them. She said nothing, watching him with round eyes.
"Look, itÕs none of my business, whatever is between you and him. I donÕt get 
involved in family stuff."
She smiled weakly and shook her head. He headed out and then she spoke. 
"Garibaldi, you donÕt think differently about me now that you know, do you?"
He turned and looked at her. She looked anxious. He shook his head. "No. 
YouÕre no more or less of a pain in the ass than you were before." He smiled 
and turned to leave, and then turned back around, unable to resist. "You do look 
a little like him, without the bone." 
She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. 
"Hey, come on," he continued, "He needs a personality overhaul but heÕs not a 
bad-looking guy." 
She crossed her arms, still glaring at him, and shot back,  "Then why donÕt you 
two go on a date!"
"Ooh, see now, you really look like him when youÕre mad!" He ducked as a pen 
went whizzing by his head. "You know, you couldÕve put my eye out with that 
thing!"
"How do you know I wasnÕt trying!"
He grinned at her. "Feel better?"
She nodded and smiled, genuinely this time. "Yeah, I guess, thanks. ItÕs just 
been a really long week. I need a vacation."
"You and me both, sister!" He left to continue his investigation.
* * * * * * * * 
So he knows, someone knows now, she thought. I donÕt think heÕll tell anyone, 
but what do I do now? I canÕt just watch those warriors, especially not with my 
lack of finesse. I guess IÕll just keep my eyes open, and keep asking questions. 
Boy, the AlytÕs got to be going nuts with the body missing. He thinks I had 
something to do with it, but I donÕt see how anyone could have done it. No one 
could have gotten past those guards, certainly not a HumanÉSo maybe weÕre 
not asking the right questions. Not where, but how, and why? Why? Anger, 
spite, disrespect of the Minbari? ThatÕs what weÕve been assumingÉShe went 
to find Garibaldi. After a few hours, she located him, haggard and 
cantankerous. 
"I had a thought."
"Shoot."
"WeÕve all assumed that the body-snatching was motivated by anger towards 
the Minbari. What if thatÕs not the motive at all?"
He thought for a moment. "I thought of that. Someone who liked him? We still 
canÕt figure out how the person or people could have gotten inside past the 
guards, and back out with the body. I hate to think of it like this, but it reeks of an 
inside job. But how the hell would I tell the Commander that, and how the hell 
do we tell Delenn or Neroon that?"
"Maybe it is an inside job. If no one could have gotten in or out past the guards, 
and there is no other access, then maybe it was one of them, or a few of them? 
What if they donÕt agree with the way Neroon does things. I wouldnÕt want to 
stand up to him directly, why would they?"
"No, none of his men would have done it. YouÕve been out of the military too 
long. Also, my understanding is that it was the military that wanted the 
ceremony."
"Was there someone who didnÕt? Who else could have gotten past them? And 
what other reasons are there why someone would have stolen the body?"
"The Religious Caste, I donÕt think they were happy about some aspects of the 
ceremony. Jeff mentioned that Delenn was out of sorts, and she doesnÕt seem 
to get on too well with Neroon."
"Wow. Yeah. I guess I was thinking of bickering families. You know how crazy 
people get at funerals. Normally sane people can turn into maniacs if the body 
isnÕt dealt with the way they want it. I know personallyÉ" She added ruefully. 
"Aunt Maude throws a fit because Uncle Joe from the wrong side of the family is 
keeping the ashes of Cousin Bob. And so Uncle Joe secretly gives Aunt Maude 
chicken ashes just to shut her upÉ"
Garibaldi eyed her curiously. "I donÕt think I need to know any more details of 
that story. IÕm just saying it for the record: YouÕre weird." He laughed and 
continued. "Yeah, I think we need to start looking at Aunt Maude or Uncle Joe. I 
was just hoping to avoid that, if at all possible. If that is true, itÕs going to get 
ugly. IÕm thinking that if itÕs an inside job, that it wonÕt be the warriors, maybe 
someone in DelennÕs crowd. Like I said, sheÕs not too friendly with Neroon. The 
tension between them was like trying to walk through a nest of electric eels. 
And IÕm still wondering how the hell IÕm going to bring that possibility up without 
sending the Minbari through the roof. Politics isnÕt my bag, in case you hadnÕt 
noticed."
Havah laughed. "AinÕt mine either. Do you think Delenn would condone or even 
do something like that? What would they do?"
"Well, she apparently knew Branmer too. If I knew what they might do with the 
body, I might have a better idea where to look for it. I still donÕt know how they 
would get past the guards though. But they might be able to at least enter the 
room in preparation for the ceremony. Of course, all of this is moot right now, 
since I have no evidence. I canÕt just spout ideas like that about our ÔguestsÕ 
unless I have something to back it up." 
"I donÕt envy you." She grinned and left.
* * * * * * * * 
Neroon slipped down the corridor, stealthy and determined. I have had enough 
of this, we have all had enough of this. Pumping the stomachs of the Pakmara! 
Revolting! His own stomach churned in response. He refused to pause, 
quelling the rebellion of his body. He had not eaten or slept in nearly two 
weeks, fasting and presiding over the preparations for Branmer. He had finally 
slept last night allowing himself a couple hours, but it had been far from restful. 
All he remembered of his fitful dreams, had been that blasted womanÕs face, 
the little one who had been ogling his guards. Except her eyes had been 
different, golden instead of dark. Blazing gold, with dark green ribboned through 
them, and black rings around the irises. He knew those eyes. Those eyes had 
followed him in his sleep for years. He had no idea why, or who they belonged 
to, but he had looked for those eyes in the face of every Minbari woman he had 
ever met, and never found them. He shook off the thought and the memory of 
the eyes with irritation. Never has Garibaldi mentioned the searching of the 
quarters of the other person who stands to benefit from dishonoring the Shai 
Alyt, Sinclair! And since he has neglected to attend to it, then I will do so myself. 
My patience with this Human investigation is at an end. 
He easily over-rode the controls on the door panel and entered SinclairÕs 
quarters. He began methodically going through the papers on the table, and 
began looking for crystals, shaking off the fog of exhaustion that kept wanting to 
seize his mind, dulling everything. There was nothing of use on the few crystals 
he found, and so he turned to the drawers, rummaging through garments, 
again finding nothing. Some garments were truly alien to him, and he dropped 
them with distaste. He pulled apart the bed, tossing the pillows on the floor. He 
was obviously not looking in the right place. There must be something. 
The door rasped open and he backed into a shadow, cast by the closet door. 
The silhouette of the commander entered and surveyed the apartment with 
dawning realization. He launched himself at Sinclair catching him around the 
throat in a wrestlerÕs grip. Sinclair swung around using NeroonÕs momentum 
and threw Neroon, who stumbled and nearly fell. Neroon drove his fist into the 
manÕs jaw with a blow that was weaker than it should have been, but still 
should have dropped him to the ground. But Sinclair only stumbled back. 
Neroon threw another haymaker punch, his hunger and fatigue were showing, 
and the man ducked it, coming back with his own straight punch to the jaw. 
Neroon barely flinched and raised his leg to smash Sinclair in the ribs with a 
crescent kick, but his body was not obeying him, and it smacked ineffectually 
against SinclairÕs hip. At that moment, Sinclair connected with a reverse punch 
to the jaw again. It knocked him off balance and he fell backwards to the floor. 
How had he not seen that coming?! Neroon thought bitterly, This is disgraceful! 
Sinclair stared at the Minbari warrior with astonishment. He knew that the man 
was hot-tempered, and he knew there had been enmity between them, but 
breaking and entering?! This seemed beyond someone of such rank. What the 
devil was going on?! Maybe it was the grief? Neroon certainly looked haggard, 
Sinclair noted, as the older man climbed to his feet, wiping his head. 
Neroon stared at the Human acidly, more winded than he would have admitted, 
and demanded the truth, that his quarters hadnÕt even been searched due to 
the crewÕs respect for him. Garibaldi walked in behind the commander, and 
explained, no doubt to NeroonÕs displeasure, that in fact, not only had SinclairÕs 
quarters already been searched, but with DelennÕs eye.
Delenn?! HowÉNeroon was so surprised to hear of her involvement in this that 
he said nothing, fighting the encroaching mental fog. 
Sinclair looked pointedly at the Alyt and asked security to escort the stunned 
soldier to his quarters. Neroon shot both of them a look that could have frozen 
duranium and brushed past them. If any of these Humans place their hands on 
me, they will be living the rest of their lives as paraplegics. Security hurried after 
him down the corridor.
* * * * * * * * 
A young renegade telepath named Alyssa Beldon was the one, finally, to 
rescue the investigation. Quite by accident, in fact. The teenager, not yet in full 
control of her gift, pulled the deed from DelennÕs mind as they sat and talked of 
Miss BeldonÕs possible future with the Minbari people, instead of indenture to 
Psi Corps. 
Sinclair and Garibaldi confronted Delenn in a cargo bay, receiving what 
suspiciously looked like a cremation urn. After some negotiation, she was 
allowed to keep it, in addition to procuring their silence on the matter. She 
would be the one to inform Neroon of the conclusion of the investigation. They 
reluctantly agreed, relieved only that the issue was solved and that Neroon 
would be out of their hair. 
Following her encounter with Sinclair and Garibaldi, Delenn took the urn to her 
quarters and sat, relaxing with some tea to regain her galloping heartbeat, 
before summoning Neroon. She had received her orders and they would not be 
denied. The Humans may not understand, but Neroon would be made to. 
Minutes later he appeared, a black presence in her door. He entered, looking 
as if he were biting on nails. "You called for me. Have you learned anything?"
She drew a deep breath. "Yes. I have his ashes. His body was cremated as he 
requested originally. They will be taken to Minbar and released near the sun.Ñ"
Neroon could not believe his ears. It must be another trick of his long fatigue. 
He stared incredulously at her. "YouÑYou have his ashes?! You stole his body 
from my guards and had his body reduced to ashes, despite our 
specifications?! And all the while I have been following the Humans, believing 
them to be the thieves!"
She ignored the insult, she could not let that distract her now. "It was as he 
wishedÑ"
Neroon exploded into motion, pacing to quell the overwhelming urge to close 
his hands around her thin neck. She is responsible for all of this?! But the 
following argument did not go at all the way justice dictated it should go. She 
maintained that since Branmer had been Religious Caste on his motherÕs 
side, that the Warrior Caste was over-ruled in their decision to honor the Star 
Rider ceremony. She even threatened to dissolve the Star Riders if they 
opposed her. And she did this with the backing of the Grey Council. She 
ordered him to support her lie, and say that BranmerÕs body had been 
magically transformed into light, rather than robbed under their very noses and 
reduced to ash! And then, outrage of all outrages, she wanted him to apologize 
to that puerile Human commander, the reckless child who had tried to defy 
them on the Line! 
And she is using her rank to get away with this indecency! How dare she accuse 
me of disrespecting Branmer when she has resorted to body-snatching and 
demanded that we weave a fairy-tale to feed our people, so that her crime will 
not be discovered?! Why in ValenÕs name is the Grey Council supporting this? 
But, he could not disobey the Council. Someday, this will all come out. And I will 
be there. But perhaps now is not the right time. I will not jeopardize the honor of 
my men, when she has threatened to destroy them. Not because of me. 
He faced her, dropped his eyes as was customary for one addressing a Grey 
Council member, whether she deserved to be one or not, and closed his fist in 
the salute of the Warrior Caste, wanting more than anything to bury his fist in 
her insufferable mouth. There was nothing more to say or do here. Who knew 
what twisted version of the truth she had told the Council! He would wait and try 
to straighten this all out when he returned to Minbar, and seek an audience with 
them himself, without her there to distort what really happened. In the 
meantime, he would have toÉapologize to the commander. How? WellÉit 
hadnÕt actually been the HumansÕ fault this time. The crime had been DelennÕs, 
and, once again, the betrayal at the hands of a member of the Religious Caste. 
No, it would not be proper to continue to hold the commander responsible for 
the deeds of the Religious Caste. It was his station, after all. He was a 
commander as well, and understood the need to protect those under his 
command. Neroon went to his quarters and drafted his words to the 
commander. It was his last task before wrapping up their affairs and returning 
to Minbar, and he wished to leave this place. He accosted the commander in 
his office. "Commander, I wish to speak with you."
Sinclair looked up, already tired of the interchange he was expecting. "Yes, Alyt, 
is there something I can do for you?"
Neroon drew in his breath. "I wish to apologize."
Sinclair thought he was going to fall over, but he wasnÕt going to waste an 
opportunity to make some kind of connection with this enigmatic captain. He 
approached Neroon. Maybe he had misjudged this man. He had been grieving 
after all, and looking at the older soldier, the lines of fatigue were chiseled in 
his face. 
Neroon left the commanderÕs office in not nearly as foul a mood as he had 
entered it. Perhaps he had misjudged Sinclair. He had expected gloating, he 
had expected anger, he had expected anything other than the genuine praise of 
Branmer that Sinclair had expressed, and was willing to express to all of 
BranmerÕs people. Perhaps Sinclair had been young and reckless during the 
war, but it was possible that he hadÉgrown wiser since then. At least he 
appeared to be honorable. Neroon had actually feltÉgenerous towards him for 
a moment, and attempted a Human custom in reconciliation. A handshake. He 
had done some half-hearted observation of Humans while aboard the station, 
when he hadnÕt been chasing that abrasive security chief around! What an odd 
custom. Why do Humans need to touch persons theyÕve never met in order to 
greet them, or depart, or seal an agreement? Insecurity perhaps. Neroon had 
much to do to see to the departure of his ship. That night, he dreamed of 
golden eyes again.
  * * * * * * * * 
"Alright, Nancy Drew, youÕre not going to believe this!" Garibaldi sauntered into 
her room, shutting the door behind him. "We were both right. It was an inside 
job, but it wasnÕt the warriors. I knew they wouldnÕt do it. It was Delenn. She 
didnÕt like the way Neroon was handling the proceedings. So she snuck the 
body out and had him cremated."
Havah almost fell over on the bed. "Delenn!!!! YouÕre joking! WowÉI know 
people get crazy, but she seemed too careful for that. What did she think, that 
Neroon would just get tired and go home? She just seems like she would think 
things out better than that."
Garibaldi tossed his head and clucked, "Well, itÕs like you said, people get 
crazy, thatÕs the definition of crazy. SheÕs got a wild streak in her, I can tell. SheÕs 
just better at hiding it than most people."
"So what did Neroon say?" 
"We didnÕt get to tell him. Her condition was that she was going to tell himÉÕher 
wayÕ, whatever that means. She wanted to be the one to deal with him, which is 
just fine with me. But there is no love lost between those two. And now thereÕs 
going to be even less. Turns out that there is this big rift going on between the 
Religious Caste and the Warrior Caste, because of the War, because the 
military was ordered to surrender by the Religious Caste. TheyÕre still sore 
about it, and theyÕre not just angry at us, theyÕre angry at DelennÕs bunch."
"Great, so this whole time she was playing dumb and offended, she couldÕve 
gotten us embroiled in another war."
"Nah, I donÕt think it would have come to that. NeroonÕs pissy, but I donÕt think 
that heÕll start a war. HeÕs too much of an old conservative. Very traditional, 
does everything by the book, and so I donÕt think that he would disobey orders, 
and I donÕt think that the Minbari government would let him start taking out other 
Minbari, or even other Humans. ThatÕs part of the problem, I think, as far as the 
whole tension is concerned. TheyÕre kept on a tight leash."
"Well, but if you keep someone on too tight a leash, canÕt it break eventually, like 
Chinese water torture. If you drip water on somebodyÕs face for long enough, 
wonÕt they eventually snap?"
"Yep, probably. And if you ask me, thatÕll probably happen, eventually."
"So, how did they do it? How did they get the body past those guards?"
"I havenÕt gotten an answer to that yet, but I will, if itÕs the last thing I do." He 
turned to go and then hesitated. "OhÉI just thought you should know because 
you may hear it at some point, Neroon went into JeffÕs quarters. He thought that 
we were holding out on him, and that we were trying to protect Jeff, so he 
wanted to search JeffÕs quarters himself. We escorted him to his quarters and 
he was no joy, let me tell you, but now that heÕs finding out the truth, I donÕt think 
heÕll pull anything else like that, not aside from his usual Ôcarrying on crankyÕ, 
as Ivanova would put it. IÕm telling you because you should definitely avoid him 
at this point, until theyÕve left. If he was in a bad mood before, he was Santa 
Claus compared to now. And I figured that you had a right to know."
Havah scowled and started kicking the leg of the desk disconsolately. "Are they 
ok? Jeff and him? Is everything ok now?"
"Yeah, everythingÕs ok now, but this whole incident hasnÕt done anything to 
improve his disposition, or his idea of Humans. I know sheÕs an ambassador 
and all, but I for one, am pretty annoyed at Delenn. And even though heÕs been 
a pain in the ass and I donÕt agree with his tactics, I donÕt blame Neroon for 
being angry, he was given the run-around, just not by us."
She sighed. "Thanks for telling me."
Garibaldi left and she sat at the edge of the bed, wanting to laugh in 
amazement, even though there was nothing remotely funny about the situation.
* * * * * * * * 
She found Sinclair in his quarters. He opened the door, and she entered a 
natural disaster. He was picking books up off of the floor. "YouÕll have to forgive 
the mess." He sighed, tossing papers on the bed and in the trash, and 
straightened a picture of a pretty Asian woman. Was that a few drops of blood 
on the floor, in the corner there? That shine in the light? If so, whose? Blood, 
salivaÉgenetic material. "What happened?Õ
"IÕd just as soon not discuss it."
Normally this would have been good enough for her, but not today, not with 
what she knew. She took a deep breath. "Look, I know about Alyt Neroon. So 
what happened?"
His eyes flashed and she took a step back. "Remind me to tell Michael that 
heÕs got a big mouth! That was supposed to be confidential!Ñ"
"ItÕs not his fault, sirÉitÕs mine!" She blurted. 
"How is it your fault? Michael has been in security for a decade. Believe me, you 
couldnÕt get anything out of him unless he wanted to let it goÑ"
"You donÕt understand. He told me for a specific reason, itÕs not his fault, he 
knew IÉI found out recently that Neroon isÉor is very likely to beÉmy father."
Sinclair had continued to shuffle things around, but now he stopped as 
suddenly as a mannequin. His head and molasses-colored eyes raised to lock 
on hers, searching for veracity. She sank onto the floor and picked up a pillow 
and held it to her chest like a shield, waiting for him to say something.  
He didnÕt, so she continued. "My father and mother were both kidnapped by 
another alien race, I donÕt know who, but they were experimented on, both 
physiologically and behaviorallyÉthey were mated, not of their own accord, and 
then they escaped, but not before their memories were tampered with. I was 
that experiment. My mother had a teep pull the memories out of her mind and 
she wrote them down. I have her diary, and the sketches she drew of my father. 
I know it sounds crazy. It sounded crazy to me too, but itÕs him. She 
remembered his name too. What I donÕt have is genetic evidence. I canÕt ask 
him because he wouldnÕt remember either. You saw him, you saw what heÕs 
like." She sat clutching the pillow.
He blew his breath out slowly through his nose and ran his fingers through his 
hair. "ThatÕs quite a conundrum. I believe you, or at least I believe that you have 
strong reasons for considering that a possibility. Who knows what happened 
out there, but I donÕt know how to help you, Miss Lassee. You should 
investigate this if you think that is what happened, and also if you think there is 
a race out there that is victimizing other species like that. But I donÕt have any 
ideas. YouÕre right that I donÕt think it would be a good idea to ask him, and I 
also donÕt think it would be a good idea to approach Delenn about this. She is 
usually a reasonable person, but latelyÉ" He shook his head irritably, "And I 
have to profess ignorance about how the Minbari handle things like that. In a lot 
of ways they are a lot like us, and they are often honorable, but they are still very 
alien in other ways which pop up very clearly from time to time, in the way they 
think. I think youÕre wise to proceed with caution."
She fidgeted. "Sir, I donÕtÉI came here partly because I wanted to see if 
everything was ok, but now that IÕm here, I was wonderingÉI was wondering if 
maybe he might have left some kind of genetic material around or skin flakes 
or somethingÉ" She turned red. Now heÕs going to think IÕm nothing but a 
scheming little weasel.
He just looked very, very tired. "Miss Lassee, he wore gloves the whole time he 
was here, but I suppose it wouldnÕt hurt if you want to look around for a 
moment, if you think it will help. And IÕm fine, everything has been resolved, but 
thank you for asking."
"Thank you so much sir! I didnÕt mean to get in your way or anything, I can help 
you clean up faster too. And IÕm really sorry for what happened." 
"You donÕt have to do that. And you arenÕt responsible for this. And I guess I can 
understand the logic. Well, IÕm going to keep cleaning up, but if I see anything 
IÕll let you know. Have at." He gestured around and returned to what he had 
been doing. 
She walked over to the spots on the floor, kneeled and peered. She went to the 
bathroom and swiped a tissue, and wiped up the drops. It wasnÕt blood, but 
some sort of clear fluid, could be saliva, or sweat, she didnÕt know if Minbari 
sweated, or even if it was from Neroon. She folded it and put it carefully in her 
pocket, and continued to look around. There was the picture of the Asian 
woman. Must be his girlfriend, she noted with a brief pang of envy. He noticed 
her looking at it. 
"SheÕs pretty." Havah said lamely.
He beamed suddenly. "Her name is Catherine."
Havah smiled and nodded, not wanting to pry any more. She took a couple 
more passes of the room, and straightened things up as she went, thanked 
him and left awkwardly, positive that he must be thinking that her and her entire 
family bloodline must be full of rude, chemically-imbalanced lunatics. And who 
could she take this to, now that she had something, or thought she did. She 
really didnÕt want to go through Med Lab. It was a military facility, but although 
Garibaldi, and now Sinclair both knewÉat least knew her story, there was 
nothing on record. Anything that showed up on a genetic test would go on a 
record somewhere and could conceivably be accessed. This would be 
inevitable no matter where she went for a scientific answer, but certainly it 
would be worse for the military to have access to that sort of information, 
considering the past. Maybe she could contract out somewhere, there were a 
dozen labs that processed results of various tests from the various personal 
physicians of the human and alien races that passed through Babylon 5. While 
people were here, they may go to Med Lab to be seen, but they had records 
from private physicians and private labs, all of which she had access to in the 
course of disease investigations. She headed to her office to select a 
candidate. There was one she knew of on the station. A private lab would be 
pricy, but it would be worth knowing, and worth the privacy. 
She found the lab, and inquired about the price of paternity tests, and almost 
choked when the pale blond man told her. She had never had to deal with price 
before, since she only had to deal with test results in her job. No wonder health 
care costs so much, especially without a single-payer like the government. 
They just pass the cost of the labs down to the patients! ItÕll be worth it, she kept 
telling herself as she prepared to transfer an amount of credits that felt like half 
her rent. 
* * * * * * * * 
"So what do I do now?" She showed him the tissue. 
He looked at it curiously. "Well, just give that to me and IÕll get the specimen 
onto the proper medium and weÕll run the PCR. It used to be that this kind of 
test required either buccal cells or blood, and then it was even more expensive. 
But now, pretty much any biological fluid or cell type will do. Whatcha got here?"
"IÕm not sure, really. I donÕt even know if itÕs from the person I want tested, but 
itÕs all I could get."
He looked at her suspiciously. "Ok, well, itÕs your money. I need cells from you 
too, rub this on the inside of your cheek, and drop it in here." He gave her a 
swab, and held out a little vial. "Results are completely confidential, and weÕll 
run it and let you know, probably in a few days. There is a backlog right now."
"Cool, thanks."
She left, clammy with perspiration. A pound of credits, and literally a pound of 
fleshÉin sweat! Now all there was to do was wait.
* * * * * * * * 
She hated waiting, more than anything else in the galaxy. But, lab results 
couldnÕt be rushed. She still called half a million times until she was sure the 
blonde man would reach through the screen to strangle her upon seeing her 
face. Despite a few hundred years since the first elementary laboratory 
operated, and despite the amazing leaps of technology since then, the 
turnaround time for results still moved at a glacial pace, and a few weeks later, 
she was finally told that she could come down and get the results. The blonde 
man popped the crystal into a port to explain the results. 
"It was biological fluid from a Minbari male. And these here indicate the alleles 
that we identified, theyÕre called markers. This indicates that between his 
markers and your markers, there was a 99% inclusion. That means, in 
essence, that this person is likely to be related to you with 99% certainty, there 
is only a .01 percent chance of his exclusion. Do you understand?"
She did. Well. Her knees got watery. There it was. Scientific evidence. The fluid 
had been organic, and it had belonged to a Minbari male. There was also a 
genetic match between her DNA, and the Minbari specimen, enough to be 
considered 99% confirmatory for paternity. The Minbari male who had been in 
SinclairÕs quarters was her father. And the only person that could have been, 
was Alyt Neroon. She pulled out the crystal and left, ashen-faced. The tech 
asked her on the way out if she was ok, she nodded mutely. 
Sinclair was busy most of the day, but she finally tracked him down on the 
observation deck for the few minutes of the day he took alone, disturbing 
himÉagain. She approached quietly.
"Sir? Can I ask you a question?"
"Yes, and you donÕt have to call me sir, Miss Lassee. YouÕre not in the military 
anymore." He smiled warmly at her.
"Yes s--, Commander. I just wanted to ask you, I know this is a strange 
question, but you know the conversation we had a few weeks ago? Well, were 
there any other Minbari males in your quarters that day or in the past few 
weeks, or everÉreally? Besides Alyt Neroon?"
"No. Mr. Lennier is the only other Minbari male IÕve been around for any length, 
and heÕs never been in my quarters. Did you do your investigation?"
She nodded and stared at her feet, glancing around briefly.
"WeÕre alone, Miss Lassee, itÕs alright." His voice was kind.
Her voice quivered. "It was him. The test indicated that the material that I found 
on the floor of your quarters came from a Minbari male, and that that person 
was related to me by paternity."  She was shivering uncontrollably, and the 
commander moved closer and put his hand on her shoulder.
"Miss Lassee, are you alright? I wonÕt say anything, this is your business and 
no one elseÕs."
She put a shaking hand to her forehead. "Yeah, I know. IÕm just reallyÉreally 
discombobulated. This whole thing, finding the diary just threw me for a loop, 
you know. IÕve been thinking about it non-stop since then, about the War, about 
everything in my life, and never had any resolution, and it was never real, really, 
until now."
He laughed gently, his hand on her back. "I understand. ThatÕs a lot to think 
about."
She put her hand down. "IÕm ok, really. Thanks for everything. I think I need to go 
somewhere and relax for a while, maybe go get some dinner. When in doubt, 
eat. ThatÕs the way it was growing up. I guess itÕs a Jewish thing. ItÕs a wonder I 
wasnÕt 800 pounds growing up."
"Yes, well, I can think of worse ways of dealing with stress." He patted her back. 
"Let me know if there is anything else I can do."
"I will, thanks." 
She started to leave, but he said thoughtfully, "Miss Lassee, you mentioned that 
your parents were kidnapped and experimented on. By whom, do you know?"
"No."