PART 11 - The Delicate Balance of In-Between"
by Jimmy, June 2, 2001

Lichala watched in fascination as the third surgery progressed cautiously. The human doctor had to be commended for his excellent medical skills, and the ability to prevent his friend from passing through the Veil not once but thrice during the previous two operations.

"Dr. Franklin seems to know what he is doing." She said to Lennier.

"Yes, he is well aware of what is required of him." Lennier responded, his eyes also trained on the scene unfolding in front of him.

"Do you think she'll survive?"

"I do not know."

"I must report back to the <I>Ingata</I>. You will keep us informed?"

"Of course," Lennier said with the proper bow of courtesy.

The female warrior left the Med Lab without a backward glance. Her intent now focused on finding Satai Neroon to inform him of the latest happenings in Babylon 5.

* * * * * * * *

Hedronn asked, "What are we to do with <i>Valen'tha</i>?"

Rathenn answered, "I believe I found a solution to that problem. I had a long conversation with Jerina earlier, and she has come up with a suitable plan."

"Care to tell us of this plan?" Neroon asked, "It would ..."

"Only confuse the issue." Rathenn said. "And I think you will find her poor company for a while yet."

Neroon bristled slightly at Rathenn's dismissal but decided not to press the issue. He knew only too well that his position with the Sun Hunters was precarious at best. And he dare not second guess what Jerina's feelings were towards him.

"Where is Delenn? Has she not returned?" Hedronn asked. "I would have thought she be here by now."

"She is safe." Rathenn said, "She has returned to <I>Yedor</I> and will stay there until Captain Sheridan can guarantee her safety on his station."

"I doubt you'll be able to keep her away from Babylon 5 for long." Hedronn remarked dryly.

"There is a problem with her door." Rathenn said, "It will not open so Delenn is unable to leave her quarters."

Neroon's smile was genuine. "Really? And what is wrong with her door?"

"I do not know. I am not trained to fix stuck doors." Rathenn answered, all innocence and honest confusion. "But I have faith that my workers will, in due time."

"If I learned anything from this miserable affair, it is to never underestimate you again, Rathenn." Hedronn said, his voice a mixture of marvel and sarcasm.

The chime rang, and Neroon gave permission for Lichala to enter.

"How is the doctor?" Rathenn asked anxiously.

"They are finishing the third surgery. I had no idea the human body can take such trauma and survive."

"Still, she is in great danger." Rathenn sighed, "I must go to Babylon 5 and see what can be done. Dr. Quietbrook deserves that much gratitude from the Minbar government."

"At least her neck didn't break." Neroon added darkly. "Of course it would make sense that the fools wouldn't know how to make a proper noose to begin with."

"Why did they turn on her, Satai?" Lichala asked.

"Because she turned on them first." Neroon answered. "And by doing so, she ruined their schemes. The humans also planned to stage the scene so it would look like her murderers were Minbari. They even managed to write an obscene message in our dialect, just to dig the blade in deeper."

"And set off an interstellar incident." Lichala said slowly. "Who is she, Satai?"

"Quietbrook is a symbol of hope for the humans," Rathenn explained. "After the war, great number of people who suffered looked towards her for guidance. To see how she dealt with her sorrow, her loss. And she led by action, by living through her pain and somehow balancing her grief with the fact that she survived. Should the humans believe that a Minbari tortured her then murdered her, old wounds and unhealed anger would surface once more."

"Cunning and obscene," Lichala admitted. She turned to Neroon, "Satai, I have the information you requested."

He took the data crystal from the warrior. "Thank you, Lichala. You are dismissed."

As soon as the aide left, the com chimed for attention. Neroon sighed impatiently but answered. It was Lennier.

"Satai Neroon, my apologies, but I need to speak with Satai Rathenn."

Rathenn came into view, "What has happened?"

"They are performing deathwatch for Dr. Quietbrook. She's bleeding to death, Satai, and Dr. Franklin can't stop the hemorrhaging. I think you should return to Babylon 5 as soon as possible."

"I will leave now." Rathenn bowed to his compatriots and departed immediately for the space station.

Neroon asked, "There is nothing that can be done?"

Lennier closed his eyes for a moment, "No, Satai Neroon. Dr. Franklin called for a priest on behalf of Dr. Quietbrook. Then he broke down in tears and had to be escorted out of Med Lab by Mr. Garibaldi. Forgive me, but I must return."

Neroon gave a somber nod and the screen went blank.

"Too bad," Hedronn said. "She was their better."

"You will return to Minbar?"

"As soon as I leave here. It's time for me to go home."

"I regret your plans did not work out, Hedronn. It was a good one."

"Thank you, Neroon. I fear after Callimer, I do not see anyone else from the Sun Hunters who will listen to reason."

"I think Rathenn's mysterious conversation with Jerina might go a long way into healing the breach between Shykan's clan and mine."

"So, you will stay a little longer?"

"I have no choice, Hedronn. Callimer's death must not be in vain."

"Then I will see you when I see you, <i>Satai</i> Neroon."

* * * * * * *

Lenann waited in the control room, wondering when he would receive further news of Quietbrook's health.

"There is a message from Jerina of the Sun Hunters. She says she needs to speak to Satai Rathenn." An acolyte reluctantly informed the agitated Minbari. Lenann, who was usually as patient as his teacher, was uncharacteristically brusque and unresponsive for the last few hours. Everyone around him became wary of this sudden shift in temper and actively tried avoiding him.

"I will speak to her on his behalf."

The female warrior's image shimmered into view in mid-air, making every male Minbari in the room catch their breath in wonder and longing.

"This is Jerina of the Sun Hunters.  Tell Satai Rathenn his plan worked. My father's fleet was able to make contact with <i>Valen'tha</i>. They are escorting the cruiser back to Minbari space even as I speak."

"That is good news, Jerina. Thank you, and your father for his exemplary diligence."

Jerina gave a nod of acknowledgement and the fair visage faded.

"Is there any news from Babylon 5?" Lenann asked impatiently, already forgetting about the beautiful Minbari in lieu of the human female now under heavy medical care.

"None."

"I do not like this." Lenann whispered. "They should be finished by now. Why has Lennier not contacted me?"

* * * * * * *

Rathenn entered the lab and immediately felt the pale mist of death brush across his face. He saw Lennier perched on a stool, staring at the frail human lying on her deathbed.

"Can they do nothing?" He asked softly.

"Her body is systematically shutting down, one organ after another." Lennier sighed, "She is still bleeding and the transfusion can only do so much. It is just a matter of time before her body collapses."

"Was she given rites?"

"Yes, a priest came and performed the earth rituals. She falls in and out of conscious, but as the night wears on, she will sink deeper and deeper until she can no longer wake. They give her six standard hours, maybe less."

"Then we must pray for a miracle. Lennier, can you access Dr. Quietbrook's room?"

"Yes, Satai, but why?"

"If the body is weak, then the soul must be strong. Bring things from her room, things that have personal meaning for Quietbrook. And fetch me the Sacred Scrolls, I believe Delenn has a copy in her quarters."

"Satai, I do not believe anything more can be done."

Rathenn turned to the youth, "It doesn't matter what we believe, Lennier. What matters is what <I>Quietbrook</I> believes. Give a human a single reason to fight, and they will. I have seen this tenacity many times during the War. And what is this but another battlefield?"

"As you wish, Satai." Lennier hurried out of the lab.

Rathenn took the aide's seat and gently tucked in the therma-blanket around the patient. "You have a destiny, human, and it will not end here. Lenann will never forgive himself and neither will Delenn should you draw your last breath tonight. And I have no desire to see either of them sink into a morass of guilt. There's enough pain in the universe for all of us, no need to seek out more."

Lennier returned almost immediately with The Sacred Scrolls. "I have an appointment in five minutes to meet with Mr. Garibaldi. He can access Dr. Quietbrook's room for me."

"Thank you, Lennier."

"Has Ambassador Delenn's door been fixed yet?"

"No, not yet."

"Ah." That was all the young aide said before departing once more.

* * * * * * *

Rathenn softly read from the Scrolls the holiest of words, using the most blessed language taught by the Religious Caste. His prayers rose and fell with each breath, making it sound like he was singing and sometimes softly weeping.

"Be careful, Rathenn," Neroon's sonorous voice floated into the room. "Her health is badly off as it is, read the entire Scroll to the poor creature and you might just <I>bore</I> her to death."

Rathenn finished the set of prayers he was performing before acknowledging the warrior. "What are you doing here?"

"I needed a walk." Neroon replied sarcastically. "How is she?"

"Dying, but then we all are since we are mortal."

"How charitable of you to remind me." Neroon stared at Quietbrook. "Is there no hope for her?"

"There is always hope." Rathenn said. "The question is does she have the will?"

The two Minbari heard another enter the Med Lab. Rathenn stood up to greet the haggard and desperate doctor.

"What are you doing here?" Franklin asked when he saw them. "I thought Captain Sheridan asked you two to leave Babylon 5 immediately."

"We did." Neroon said. "Then we returned. He never said we could not return."

Franklin walked by the warrior without another word. He checked her vital signs then plugged in fresh units of IV and blood.  After finishing his task, Stephen whispered something into her ear. She stirred and opened her eyes.

"Hey, Stephen." She whispered.

"How are you, Beano?"

"I've been worse." She caught sight of Neroon. "So, everything worked out?"

"Yes, we got everyone. Don't worry about a thing now, Beano."

"You always were a bad liar." She took a shallow breath and winced. "I'm dying, aren't I?"

Franklin looked away, unable to respond. Beano smiled sadly, "It's okay, Stephen. It's not like this is the first time I'm facing death. And losing."

"Hobbs says the odds are against you. But it's not 100 to 1 so don't even start."

"What are the odds? 99 to 1 then?"

Franklin smiled, "Something like that."

"That's not so bad." She looked at Rathenn, "What are you two doing here? You should be on your way to Minbar."

"We're here to improve those odds." Rathenn answered. "Myself by praying and Neroon by discouraging death with his presence."

Beano laughed weakly and then closed her eyes. Alarmed, Franklin checked the life support system. Only after making sure she wasn't going into a respiratory seizure did he allow himself to relax.

Lennier returned, holding Beano's backpack. "I have collected some valuables."

"What's this all about?" Franklin asked, feeling violated that a near stranger was now in possession of his friend's personal effects.

"We decided that if Dr. Quietbrook was surrounded by things that held a private value for her, she might be able to hold onto this life with more conviction." Rathenn said soothingly.

"I see. What's in the bag?"

Lennier unzipped the backpack and began pulling out various objects. "I believe this is a photograph of her family, a diary of some sort, I found it on her bedside ... and ... oh, yes, her mother's medal."

The young aide placed the frame on the tray table next to the bed. He opened the medal box and gave it to Franklin. "It is lovely."

Stephen agreed, "It is."

"May I?" Neroon asked. Franklin tightened his hold on the velvet box. "I won't eat it, doctor."

Franklin reluctantly handed over the treasure. Neroon read the inscription. "<I>In Gratitude and Memory ... The Line.</I> How strange, shouldn't she have received one for her father and her brother also?"

"Those medals were given only to the survivors of The Line." Franklin explained.

"But her family, they all perished in the war." Lennier said, confused.

Neroon felt his chest tighten as he truly began understanding the sacrifice Quietbrook made on his behalf. "She fought on The Line?" He whispered. 

"Yes, Beano volunteered to go up."

"But she's not Warrior Caste," Rathenn interrupted. "How could your government even consider taking her?"

"Because Beano grew up among the Warrior Caste. She knew how to fly before she learned how to read or write. Because Earth no longer had any choice. The Sullivan's Rule states that the last surviving member of a family must not be made to serve during wartime. But during the Earth-Minbari war, that rule could no longer be enforced. And we were desperate. So damn desperate that we asked a grieving twenty-year-old girl to delay her family's funeral in order to fight in a battle that was doomed from the start."

"Is that where she got the scars on her arm and leg?" Neroon asked. "She would not tell me."

"Yes. Her Starfury took an indirect hit. The control board melted and fused itself into her body. When they found her, she was declared dead, but the doctor wouldn't give up. He realized who she was and kept pumping her heart until he got some signs. He tried his best, but it was sheer chaos right after you withdrew. When everything was said and done, Beano came out looking like that minus a few bones, a kidney and half a lung."

"It is a miracle she survived."  Rathenn said, his tone both wondrous and sad.

"Beano never took any pleasure from the military lifestyle, even after the War was over and Earth Dome declared her a hero. She had the choice of joining Earthforce when she turned eighteen, but she told her 
parents she would like to follow in her father's footsteps instead. Even though it disappointed her mother, the Admiral agreed out of respect for Beano's wishes."

"Why did she go up? She must have known she was going to be killed." Neroon asked.

"Because it was The Line. Because the President begged for any pilots who were still capable of fighting to fight. And Beano was angry, very, very angry in fact. She was told her mother's ship was destroyed defending Proxima 3. She had no idea <I>Agincourt</I> managed to survive and was making its way back to Earth."

"Every ten minutes ..." Lennier recollected. "I read your President's speech. She said for every ten minutes you could hold off our military advance, few hundred civilians may be able to escape to neutral territory. How many escaped?"

"Less than three thousand."

"And twenty thousand died for those three thousand." Lennier said, his voice aching with loss and confusion on how to feel about a war his people had so brutally waged on the humans.

"Before Beano went up, she left me a message. She said if she could donate thirty seconds to those ten minutes, she did her duty. No regrets, no second thoughts. I wasn't home so I didn't get it until it was all over. It took me three days to find out she was still alive."

"I never understood ..." Neroon said with great difficulty. "It took us over two years to reach your homeworld. Even with our technology, with our war cruisers and fighters, it took us years. When the war first began, we thought it would take us months at most. But you withstood us for over two years."

Franklin took the book Lennier had mistaken for a diary. "This is from her parents. When Beano went to school on Earth, she was separated from them for better part of the year. During the separation, her parents would write words of wisdom or whatever came into their minds in this book. They were planning to offer it as a present for her twenty-first birthday. But when the war started, they decided to give it to her, just in case. This is what her mother wrote when she realized the war was going to go badly for the humans.

<I>Do not go gentle into that good night.
<br>Rage, rage against the dying of the light.</I>

It's from a poem that was very famous during its day. I hope that gives you an idea of what we are capable of when shoved into a corner."

Rathenn sadly noted half of the book remained woefully blank. An eloquent testimony to an unspeakable tragedy.

"I must admit," Neroon said. "What she did to ensure justice for myself seems more admirable considering what she suffered during the war."

"You still don't get it, do you?" Franklin said in disbelief. "Beano didn't do all this in spite of The Line, she did it <I>because</I> of The Line."

Rathenn looked away, ashamed of Neroon's inability to understand. Lennier did the same. The warrior, sensing the others' reactions to his reply, became perplexed.

Franklin said, "All that pride, all that love of duty, but you don't get the why. The reason behind it all. For you, the war was nothing but an exercise in will and power. It's supposed to mean more than that, more than just proving might makes right."

"Doctor," Lennier interrupted, fearing Neroon might lose his temper on Franklin. "This inscription on the cover of the book. What is it? It looks like a form of language but I have never seen anything like it."

"It's an old saying, the language itself is considered ancient and holy by many people. It says, 'Whoever saves one life, saves the world entire.' The verse has many meanings, so you can take it as you wish."

"Her father's influence?" Neroon asked.

"Definitely," Franklin answered. "He was a magnificent man, had to be to attract a woman like Naomi Hakada."

Lennier stared at the picture, "They were a most handsome family."

"I have to go see Sheridan and tell him the truth about Beano. I don't want to do it over the com. He served under Beano's mother and thinks the world of her. I'll be back as soon as I can."

The group fell silent after the doctor's departure. Lennier took out few more personal things, including a seashell and placed them throughout the room.

"Branmer always wondered who it was." Neroon finally said as he studied the family photograph. "There was only one earth ship that managed to take us by surprise. Her mother formed a jump point behind our fleet. We thought it was one of ours so we didn't bother to check. <I>Yirin</I> and its crew paid a heavy price for our complacency. The earth ship's name was <I>Agincourt.</I>"

"Did you destroy it?" Rathenn asked.

"Branmer gave the order, but yes, it was I who carried it out. I thought it would be simple enough task, but even as we fired, it somehow managed to ram <I>Yirin</I>. It took the cruiser and scores of our fighters with it.  The Star Riders never speak of the incident.  The shame of it still grates us."

"Did you think it brave?"

"Branmer thought it tragic. The war wounded him deeply even though he would never admit to it." Neroon wouldn't answer Rathenn's question. He couldn't look that deep into his soul. "It took too long, and the humans, they kept coming, Rathenn. Wave after wave, body after body. They would not stay down, no matter how many times we beat them to the ground. Break their arms, they come up. Break their legs, they would try to stand on them anyway. Branmer was so tired, so sick of it all towards the end. That was the reason why he planned The Battle of The Line. He thought one more confrontation to settle everything. Of course, it didn't turn out as he planned. Even he couldn't believe all the ships Earth managed to scrape together for that final conflict. Branmer said it would take us less than four months. After two years passed, he became ashamed of himself because of his prediction for an easy victory."

"Do you regret any of it?"

"No, of course not. It was war." Neroon answered, his temper flaring. "They got what they deserved."

"And did Quietbrook get what she deserved?"

Neroon stared at the dying woman. He could not answer, even though his self-preservation screamed for him to say <I>'yes, she got exactly what she deserved.'</I>

Lennier left the room as quietly as possible. He feared his presence might hinder Rathenn from accomplishing whatever he was trying to do with the warrior.

"It was war." Neroon finally said. "We had casualties on both sides. Innocence, youth, truth; none of it survives in a war. You know that as well as I. You participated too if my memory serves me correctly."

"Oh, yes, I did. I was responsible for ensuring that there were no human survivors left on Io." Rathenn answered. "After the initial wave was done, I sat in my ship, ordering the death of every man, woman and child who survived the battle. And I was quite efficient, Neroon. When my fleet left Io, there wasn't a creature left alive. Delenn said no mercy, so I showed none, and by doing so, <I>I</I> deserve none."

Neroon didn't know what to say to Rathenn's confession. He could not imagine this quiet, demure priest capable of the carnage that was Io. Quietbrook stirred then awoke.

"You're still here? Is Minbar really that boring?"

Rathenn smiled, "As you can see we're succeeding at keeping away death. With some luck, it might continue to stay away."

"Then I won't complain." She looked at Neroon, "What time is it?"

"You have other things to worry about, human. I sincerely doubt you'll be meeting your appointments any time soon."

"Am I interrupting something?" She asked, "Because you two look like you're discussing the meaning of life. Of course, I can't go anywhere so you two could have a private conversation."

"What was that human philosophy you told me about? " Neroon said, "Silence is golden. I suggest you practice it. Now."

"I'll be quiet enough once I'm dead. Humor me."

"We were talking about war, about accountability for certain questionable actions committed during wartime." Rathenn confessed, earning a stunned look from Neroon.

"Cheerful subject, thank G-d I slept through it."

"Know any human wisdom that might shed light on this topic?" Rathenn asked.

"Too many, save myself, the rest of my family were career military so we used to discuss stuff like that all the time."

"Then answer this, human. If one was responsible for the death of fifty thousand lives while carrying out orders during wartime, is that person guilty of those deaths?"

"Of course he is." Beano answered, frowning. "What kind of question is that?"

"You would hold that person guilty then?" Neroon was genuinely surprised. "Even if it happened during wartime?"

Beano nodded, "Can't cheapen life because it's war. That doesn't make sense."

"Then how does the person redeem himself?" Rathenn was genuinely curious to see how she would answer.

"That's easy. The person saves one life."

"And that doesn't cheapen the fifty thousand lives taken? Your reasoning is riddled with faults." Neroon argued, forgetting for a moment of Beano's fragile condition.

"It's not about math, Neroon. Life is life, be it one or two or fifty thousand." Beano took a shuddering breath and winced in pain. "And it's always easier to take, not to give. You try saving one life, Neroon. You're going to find it a hard task. I did."

Her statement left Rathenn breathless, and Neroon curious.

"How many Minbari did you kill?" Neroon asked.

"I think two, both during The Line. The first one must have been a greenback. He didn't see me coming. The second one managed to damage my Starfury, but not before I laid waste to his ship. Then one of your war cruisers came out of hyperspace almost on top of me. That was the last thing I remember."

"You said our war cruisers were beautiful." Neroon gently accused Quietbrook, recalling her flattering words.

"But they are. I thought that when I saw them for the first time. Big, beautiful metallic fishes swimming in a sea of stars."

Rathenn saw fluctuations in her vital signs, "You should get some rest, Doctor."

Beano's eyes followed his gaze to the monitor. "That looks bad. Actually, that <I>is</I> very bad." She ignored Rathenn's look of distress at her comment. "That's the one thing about being a doctor, you don't get to remain blissfully ignorant."

Quietbrook felt a warm touch on her forehead. She turned her gaze to see Neroon had taken off his gloves and placed his right hand on her damp and cooling skin.  He stroked her brows with tenderness she didn't think him capable of.  "Do not strain yourself, human. You've done your share for today."

"Gloves." She said, smiling. "Didn't make sense why a warrior like Callimer would be stupid enough to take off his gloves."

Neroon finally understood. "He wouldn't have."

"No," Beano was fading quickly. "He wouldn't. But someone ... someone needed to plant evidence so ... they took off his gloves in order to put it ... under fingernails."

"Rest, please." Rathenn begged.

"Traitor ... Neroon. There is ... a traitor ..."

"I know who it is, human. Have no fear. He will be taken care of."

Beano smiled, "I'd pay see that."

She closed her eyes once more. Rathenn checked the monitors.

"Her oxygen consumption is becoming worrisome. We must contact Dr. Franklin."

Neroon pulled out something from inside his armor and the object made a merry noise in his grasp.

"What are you doing?" Rathenn asked. "What is that?"

"It's a contract box." Neroon handed it over to the curious Minbari.

"What does it do?" Rathenn asked, as he examined the object. It was a sealed metal box, small enough to fit in his palm. And there were glyphs inscribed on all sides. He heard something jingling from within, but since he could not open it, he did not know what it was.

"While I was still Alyt to Branmer, we came across some traders near The Rim. One of them had that thing - he called it a contract box.  He told me it was used by an ancient race to make a pact with Death. Inside the perfectly sealed box is a priceless jewel, but if Death wanted it, it had to read the contract written on the box. And the contract says, should Death decide to take the jewel, it forfeits its claim to take the life of the person it came to collect. Not forever of course, but just that one time. The trader claimed he had others of its kind and that they worked. I bought it because he told the story well and had it ever since."

"You think Death would trade her soul for a trinket?"

"Never underestimate stupidity, Rathenn."

"I must make the call." The priest deliberately left Neroon alone with the unconscious patient.

"I still do not understand what you mean by trading one life for fifty thousand. So, I will admit I am curious." Neroon tucked the small box underneath her pillow. "And since you have my full attention, it would be an unforgivable insult if you died before convincing me of the superiority of your reasoning."

He heard her breaths become shallower with each struggling gasp.  Suddenly the room was filled with screaming alarms. Fear overtook the warrior as he watched helplessly.

"Don't die. Tell me how you survived the war. How did you heal? How could you forgive? I don't understand. I don't understand how it can be done."

When Rathenn rushed back into Quietbrook's room, he found it empty.

* * * * * * *

Neroon closed his eyes and allowed his head to fall back. He was exhausted, and there was an ache in his bones he never felt before.  He could hear the near-silent thrum of <I>Ingata's</I> engines and took comfort in the familiar sound.

<I>I'm getting old.</I> He thought sadly. <I>What will be my testimony once I'm gone? Will it be that I killed 50,000 humans during the War? Is that how I will be remembered? Is that all that lies ahead for me? How is it she has become a symbol of hope for the future while I am still unable to shake the past?</I>

"Satai Neroon?" Adolyn asked softly, approaching him from behind. "Are you well?"

Neroon's reply was decisive and violent. He slammed his fist into Adolyn's chest, gratified to feel the crunch of bones.

"Traitor." Neroon hissed. "I made you my second-in-command, and you repay me by ripping the Star Riders <b>apart</b>!"

Adolyn dropped to his knees. "I ... don't ... understand."

His repeating of the question Neroon, himself, asked earlier only further enraged the Satai.

"I know of your secret transmissions to Babylon 5! I know you were the one who sent Callimer to his death! I know everything!"

Neroon heard approaching footsteps and roared, "Do not interfere!"

Jerina's voice startled him, "He is mine. You cannot deny me my blood oath!"

Neroon took a deep breath then stepped aside. "Before you kill him, I have to know."

Jerina gave an elegant bow. "Ask your questions."

Neroon turned to his aide, "Why?"

Adolyn's lips curved into a ghastly smile. "<I>They</I> promised me the world, Neroon."

"The humans?"

"No, not the humans. The humans are mere kindling for the flames, no more than that. <I>They</I> are here, Neroon. <I>They</I> are no longer myth but real, and <i>they</i> promised me."

"Enough of this foolishness," Jerina interrupted. "I invoke Denn'Sha!"

Adolyn gave a nod, "Why not? After I kill you, the Sun Hunters will demand Neroon's head in return. It doesn't matter. It will all end in fire anyway. <I>They</I> will see to that."

"If you kill me." Jerina said, "It took six blows to fell Callimer. I suspect it will take three to cut you apart since you're not even half his worth."

It took two.

* * * * * * *

Morden stretched luxuriously like a cat and then straightened out his spine by sitting up. He heard the sibilant whispers originating from a dark corner in the room and smiled indulgently.

"It doesn't matter if the plan didn't go exactly as we wished. The damage is done. The Minbari now realize they are vulnerable and they will resent it. Their arrogance and their pride will do the rest."

He paused, his head cocked to the side. The charming smile on his lips grew as he heard his companions' words echo in his mind.

"Yes, I am sure. Fear of betrayal will strike deeply into their hearts and cripple them just long enough for us to move. And that goes doubly so with the Warrior Caste. They will blame the humans for Adolyn's downfall of course, and they will hate the humans even more. In the end, we will win and their world will end in fire."

Morden put on his jacket while chuckling to himself. He stopped his movements and listened once more.

"Oh, I was just remembering a poem from a history class I took. It's something a German priest named Niemoller said about the Nazis. It seems so appropriate for the Minbari, especially now, but they wouldn't know anything about it."