The Long Trial, Part One
Chapter Six: 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 captain's 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 father's 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, 'blowing smoke up their hindquarters' 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 Branmer's mediation skills, and Neroon's 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 Lassee's 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 Havah's 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 Havah's 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 You'll Never Hear a Texan SayŠWhat is a Texan? The Addams FamilyŠWhy does the little girl's doll have no head? Could they not get her a new doll? There is an extra hand in the drawingŠ She pulled her attention away and returned to Havah's 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 woman's whole body language changed, from distraction, to that closed quiet regard. She answered icily, her back rigid. "I'll 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 yetŠthere 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 Delenn's 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 Delenn's 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 isn't an expression of remorse, and it's also not a resolution to not repeat the same actions. And I won't trust them until that occurs. Surrender, my ass! People who truly surrender don't make as many demands as they have made. And I was there. If they surrendered, it wasn't 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.

* * * * * * * *

You're lucky that my guns were not aimed at your inconsequential little station, Commander! Neroon thought savagely, with particular sarcasm concerning the address of Commander. It's 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, Dukhat's chosen brat would be there. He had respected Dukhat greatly, but no one he knew had understood Dukhat's choice in an aide. It wasn't 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 general's 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 general's aide, the ship's 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 couldn't see him though, just a blurry shadow in the frosted coffin. She glanced up at Branmer's 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, I'm sorry, do you happen to know the name of the soldier that just went by, the officer?"

"That is Alyt Neroon. He isŠwas the second in command of the Ingata, Shai Alyt Branmer's primary ship. He was Branmer's aide."

"OhŠdo 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 Branmer's 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 mother's 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 mother's. Havah's skin was swarthier than his, a true combination in genome between his pale skin and her mother's darkness. Her mother's ancestors would have thought of him as a djinn, a daemon, and maybe that's what he was, having been responsible for the death of thousands of her mother's kind. 'Daughter of a demon-lover, empress of the hidden face,' that's how the old Rush song went, didn't it? The Executioner's 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 couldn't 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 himŠI can't 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 he's 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? It's pretty obvious that telling him that I'm 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 don't know if I could ever come to terms with our respective pasts, I didn't come here to ruin his life. Whatever he did ten years ago, he did save my mother's life. Maybe there is some explanation, but I doubt if either of us will ever get to a point where I'll 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 counselor's 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 callŠ

"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 didn't know what else to do! I did the best that I could, and sometimes I could only guess at what that was. And I'm 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 you're 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 calledŠYou 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, I'm really sorry. I'm not angry at you, not at all, I justŠI'm just a moron and I forgot." No, that didn't come out right, I didn't mean that I forgotŠ "Not about youŠI meanŠI justŠtime got away from me. It always does, it's always been like that, I didn't mean that IŠ*sigh*. I love you too, mom. I'm sorry I didn't call. The package got here fine, and thank you for sending it and the pictures of you and dadŠand all the newspaper clippings. Are you ok?"

Mrs. Goldman sniffled. "Yes, I'm fine, better now that I'm hearing from my daughter. I'm sorry I lost my cool on your message machine. You know I don't 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. I'll try to call more often, it's just hard with the time difference and all. I don't mind any time you want to call, you're not intruding. I have several thousand light years of space, that's plenty. Babylon 5 was just a great opportunity, it's not like I was escaping. I know that's 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! It's amazing, he has so much more energy now, I'll 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! I'll give you her number in Baltimore so that you can call and congratulate herŠ"

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 didn't want to approach Alyt Neroon. There was a ceremony to be held tomorrow, so she went to Sinclair's 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 someone's head off with a single gloved hand. She stood back and let him pass, his two security men striding behind him. They didn't look friendly either. She tentatively peeked into the Commander's office. He was there with Garibaldi, and neither of them looked cheerful.

"Hi. Is this a bad time?"

"Yes and no. It's not going to be a good time until Shai Alyt Branmer's escort has left the station. Come in."

"OhŠthat bad? I saw Alyt Neroon leaving here. He wasn't 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 'You wouldn't believe it,' look. Garibaldi spoke, "He demanded his own security on the room where they're keeping Branmer. Said he didn't want 'Humans'," he curled his lip in imitation of Neroon's snarl, "interfering with his staff! Started trying to provoke us, obviously, talking about the Line! I'm telling you, this guy's spoiling for a fight."

"Last I checked this was still our damn station," the Commander said irascibly, "butŠwe're trying to be diplomatic and show them courtesy. They are grieving after all." He gave Michael a sedate look. "And frankly, I don't have the time to engage in a pissing contestŠWhat can I do for you, Havah?"

"EhŠwow. I just wanted to find out more about the ceremony and everything. Considering everything going on, I didn't want to ask the Ambassador. My guess is she's got her hands full too, and I'd rather ask you anyway."

Sinclair laughed, dark face lightening. "I don't blame you. The ceremony is going to be in the Green Room tomorrow at 1000 hours. He's 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 they're 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 wasn't 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 wasn't careful. And now, curiosity was consuming her. Maybe G'Kar 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 fly's tongue and rip her trachea out before she could say 'Gotcha!' 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. I've 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? "N‹noŠI'm sorryŠfor your loss. I don't 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 he'd gripped it. She went to her quarters and didn't go out for the rest of the night.

* * * * * * * *

Horrid little beast! What in Valen's 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 'station security' or was this an intentional violation, out of spite?! Either way, it will not occur again. He strode determinedly towards Garibaldi's 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 Branmer's 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 Neroon's tone. "Look, Alyt Neroon, I can't give you an explanation unless you give me more details. Why don't 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 blackŠhair, 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, I'm very sorry. I know who it was, and I know she was just curious‹"

"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 'curious' 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 wasn't 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 don't want to do that, you're being an 'honored guest' and all, but I will!"

Neroon walked up into Garibaldi's space and stood nose to nose. "Do not assume that you could, Mr. Garibaldi."

Garibaldi didn't budge an inch, and his eyes never wavered from Neroon's dark gaze. "We will do whatever we have to, Alyt. But we have been trying to help."

"We don't 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 won't have you intimidating her‹"

"Her name!"

"I don't take orders from you, Alyt! Look, I'm pretty damn sure that she's 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 hadn't 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 don't take threats on my station, but I shouldn't have had to defend you! What the hell were you thinking?! It's bad enough that we have to cater to this guy, but I didn't think we'd have to baby-sit you too!"

Havah wanted to cry. "Yeah, I know, I'm sorry. I just..I was just really curious. I can't explain whyŠI, it was stupid, and I won't do it again." Her eyes filled with tears. Crap, don't do this now, Havah, she thought.

Garibaldi's reaction was similar. "No, no, don't do that. What's going on with you lately? I know I don't know you very well, but we've been in meetings together, and Jeff talks about you sometimes. He thinks you're really smart, and put-together, so what's going on? Is it the War? I know you were there. You know, I know this counselor that's really great‹"

Why is it that everyone always suggests counseling, am I that looney? I guess latelyŠ"NoŠI'm ok. I guess it is the War. But I've been to counselors and they don't work for me. Thanks though. I won't flake out anymore. I'm just going to stay here tonight. I was asked to go to the ceremony tomorrow, but I'll hang in the back and then go back to work. I'll 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 outŠbut 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 wishŠShe 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 didn't 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 Neroon's resonant voice. She couldn't 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 Sinclair's 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 people's 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 Commander's 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 hadn't 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 Delenn's 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!‹"

"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 'reasonable', 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 Branmer's 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 don't 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 'Satai' collapse. That would serve no purpose. "Very well, I will allow this 'investigation' 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 'care for him', 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 hadn't 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 hadn't 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, we're starting with a general search of the room he was in to see if there were any traces left behind‹"

"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 don't think‹"

"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 suspect‹"

"Alyt, I have been doing investigation and security for nine years, I don't 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?! I'll question her, and I'll search her quarters for all of the good I think it will do, I really doubt that she's involved. But you have to back off and let me do my job the way we know how to do it. I promise you I'll keep you updated on anything that we find. Anything that we find, you'll be the first to know, alright?"

"I will await your 'updates' Mr. Garibaldi." He stormed away and Garibaldi slammed his hand against the desk, envisioning Neroon's face. Dammit, this guy's 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 Neroon's 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 nowŠthat 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 ordersŠand 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 wasn't terribly surprised.

"I'm guessing you know why I'm here."

"Because the body is missing and you think I have something to do with it."

"I don't. But the fun-filled Minbari Tower of Joy does. I'm leading the investigation, and he demanded that you be questioned and your quarters be searched. He wanted to do it himself, but I said 'no way'. So here I am. We can talk here or somewhere else, but I'm 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 Lassee's quarters."

Damn! I don't need this right now, he thought. He really didn't 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 doesn't 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 doesn't seem right either, these sketches look too old. And the name isn't in Havah's handwriting. No one needed to be an expert to recognize her scrawl. Havah's 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 Havah's handwriting. He read the whole thing, not believing what he was reading, and then read it again. Havah's name wasn't mentioned anywhere, butŠShe 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. I'll be damned! She's 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. How'd she get away with not having a bone? Well, that explains her reaction. She said she couldn't explain why she was there. She knows. She knows and wanted to see him. So what now, I'm not a family therapist. Boy, this woman's just full of surprises. I really don't 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, it's 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, it's none of my business, whatever is between you and him. I don't get involved in family stuff."

She smiled weakly and shook her head. He headed out and then she spoke. "Garibaldi, you don't think differently about me now that you know, do you?"

He turned and looked at her. She looked anxious. He shook his head. "No. You're 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 he's not a bad-looking guy."

She crossed her arms, still glaring at him, and shot back, "Then why don't you two go on a date!"

"Ooh, see now, you really look like him when you're mad!" He ducked as a pen went whizzing by his head. "You know, you could've put my eye out with that thing!"

"How do you know I wasn't trying!"

He grinned at her. "Feel better?"

She nodded and smiled, genuinely this time. "Yeah, I guess, thanks. It's 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 don't think he'll tell anyone, but what do I do now? I can't just watch those warriors, especially not with my lack of finesse. I guess I'll just keep my eyes open, and keep asking questions. Boy, the Alyt's got to be going nuts with the body missing. He thinks I had something to do with it, but I don't see how anyone could have done it. No one could have gotten past those guards, certainly not a HumanŠSo maybe we're not asking the right questions. Not where, but how, and why? Why? Anger, spite, disrespect of the Minbari? That's what we've been assumingŠShe went to find Garibaldi. After a few hours, she located him, haggard and cantankerous.

"I had a thought."

"Shoot."

"We've all assumed that the body-snatching was motivated by anger towards the Minbari. What if that's not the motive at all?"

He thought for a moment. "I thought of that. Someone who liked him? We still can't 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 don't agree with the way Neroon does things. I wouldn't want to stand up to him directly, why would they?"

"No, none of his men would have done it. You've been out of the military too long. Also, my understanding is that it was the military that wanted the ceremony."

"Was there someone who didn't? Who else could have gotten past them? And what other reasons are there why someone would have stolen the body?"

"The Religious Caste, I don't think they were happy about some aspects of the ceremony. Jeff mentioned that Delenn was out of sorts, and she doesn't 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 isn't dealt with the way they want it. I know personallyŠ" 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 upŠ"

Garibaldi eyed her curiously. "I don't think I need to know any more details of that story. I'm just saying it for the record: You're 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, it's going to get ugly. I'm thinking that if it's an inside job, that it won't be the warriors, maybe someone in Delenn's crowd. Like I said, she's not too friendly with Neroon. The tension between them was like trying to walk through a nest of electric eels. And I'm still wondering how the hell I'm going to bring that possibility up without sending the Minbari through the roof. Politics isn't my bag, in case you hadn't noticed."

Havah laughed. "Ain't 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 don't 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 can't just spout ideas like that about our 'guests' unless I have something to back it up."

"I don't 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 woman's 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 Sinclair's 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 wrestler's grip. Sinclair swung around using Neroon's momentum and threw Neroon, who stumbled and nearly fell. Neroon drove his fist into the man's 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 Sinclair's 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 hadn't even been searched due to the crew's respect for him. Garibaldi walked in behind the commander, and explained, no doubt to Neroon's displeasure, that in fact, not only had Sinclair's quarters already been searched, but with Delenn's eye.

Delenn?! HowŠNeroon 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 Delenn's mind as they sat and talked of Miss Beldon's 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.‹"

Neroon could not believe his ears. It must be another trick of his long fatigue. He stared incredulously at her. "You‹You 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 wished‹"

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 mother's 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 Branmer's 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 Valen's 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 toŠapologize to the commander. How? WellŠit hadn't actually been the Humans' fault this time. The crime had been Delenn's, 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 wasn't 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 commander's 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 Branmer's people. Perhaps Sinclair had been young and reckless during the war, but it was possible that he hadŠgrown wiser since then. At least he appeared to be honorable. Neroon had actually feltŠgenerous 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 hadn't been chasing that abrasive security chief around! What an odd custom. Why do Humans need to touch persons they've 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, you're 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 wasn't the warriors. I knew they wouldn't do it. It was Delenn. She didn't 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!!!! You're joking! WowŠI 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, it's like you said, people get crazy, that's the definition of crazy. She's got a wild streak in her, I can tell. She's just better at hiding it than most people."

"So what did Neroon say?"

"We didn't get to tell him. Her condition was that she was going to tell himŠ'her way', 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 there's 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. They're still sore about it, and they're not just angry at us, they're angry at Delenn's bunch."

"Great, so this whole time she was playing dumb and offended, she could've gotten us embroiled in another war."

"Nah, I don't think it would have come to that. Neroon's pissy, but I don't think that he'll start a war. He's too much of an old conservative. Very traditional, does everything by the book, and so I don't think that he would disobey orders, and I don't think that the Minbari government would let him start taking out other Minbari, or even other Humans. That's part of the problem, I think, as far as the whole tension is concerned. They're kept on a tight leash."

"Well, but if you keep someone on too tight a leash, can't it break eventually, like Chinese water torture. If you drip water on somebody's face for long enough, won't they eventually snap?"

"Yep, probably. And if you ask me, that'll probably happen, eventually."

"So, how did they do it? How did they get the body past those guards?"

"I haven't gotten an answer to that yet, but I will, if it's the last thing I do." He turned to go and then hesitated. "OhŠI just thought you should know because you may hear it at some point, Neroon went into Jeff's quarters. He thought that we were holding out on him, and that we were trying to protect Jeff, so he wanted to search Jeff's quarters himself. We escorted him to his quarters and he was no joy, let me tell you, but now that he's finding out the truth, I don't think he'll pull anything else like that, not aside from his usual 'carrying on cranky', as Ivanova would put it. I'm telling you because you should definitely avoid him at this point, until they've 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, everything's ok now, but this whole incident hasn't done anything to improve his disposition, or his idea of Humans. I know she's an ambassador and all, but I for one, am pretty annoyed at Delenn. And even though he's been a pain in the ass and I don't agree with his tactics, I don't 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. "You'll 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, salivaŠgenetic material. "What happened?'

"I'd 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 he's got a big mouth! That was supposed to be confidential!‹"

"It's not his fault, sirŠit's mine!" She blurted.

"How is it your fault? Michael has been in security for a decade. Believe me, you couldn't get anything out of him unless he wanted to let it go‹"

"You don't understand. He told me for a specific reason, it's not his fault, he knew IŠI found out recently that Neroon isŠor is very likely to beŠmy 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 didn't, so she continued. "My father and mother were both kidnapped by another alien race, I don't know who, but they were experimented on, both physiologically and behaviorallyŠthey 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 it's him. She remembered his name too. What I don't have is genetic evidence. I can't ask him because he wouldn't remember either. You saw him, you saw what he's like." She sat clutching the pillow.

He blew his breath out slowly through his nose and ran his fingers through his hair. "That's 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 don't 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 don't have any ideas. You're right that I don't think it would be a good idea to ask him, and I also don't think it would be a good idea to approach Delenn about this. She is usually a reasonable person, but latelyŠ" 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 you're wise to proceed with caution."

She fidgeted. "Sir, I don'tŠI came here partly because I wanted to see if everything was ok, but now that I'm here, I was wonderingŠI was wondering if maybe he might have left some kind of genetic material around or skin flakes or somethingŠ" She turned red. Now he's going to think I'm 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 wouldn't hurt if you want to look around for a moment, if you think it will help. And I'm fine, everything has been resolved, but thank you for asking."

"Thank you so much sir! I didn't mean to get in your way or anything, I can help you clean up faster too. And I'm really sorry for what happened."

"You don't have to do that. And you aren't responsible for this. And I guess I can understand the logic. Well, I'm going to keep cleaning up, but if I see anything I'll 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 wasn't blood, but some sort of clear fluid, could be saliva, or sweat, she didn't 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.

"She's 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 didn't want to go through Med Lab. It was a military facility, but although Garibaldi, and now Sinclair both knewŠat 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! It'll 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 I'll get the specimen onto the proper medium and we'll 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?"

"I'm not sure, really. I don't even know if it's from the person I want tested, but it's all I could get."

He looked at her suspiciously. "Ok, well, it's 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 we'll 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 fleshŠin sweat! Now all there was to do was wait.

* * * * * * * *

She hated waiting, more than anything else in the galaxy. But, lab results couldn't 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, they're 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 Sinclair's 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 himŠagain. She approached quietly.

"Sir? Can I ask you a question?"

"Yes, and you don't have to call me sir, Miss Lassee. You're 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 everŠreally? Besides Alyt Neroon?"

"No. Mr. Lennier is the only other Minbari male I've been around for any length, and he's never been in my quarters. Did you do your investigation?"

She nodded and stared at her feet, glancing around briefly.

"We're alone, Miss Lassee, it's 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 won't say anything, this is your business and no one else's."

She put a shaking hand to her forehead. "Yeah, I know. I'm just reallyŠreally discombobulated. This whole thing, finding the diary just threw me for a loop, you know. I've 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. That's a lot to think about."

She put her hand down. "I'm 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. That's the way it was growing up. I guess it's a Jewish thing. It's a wonder I wasn't 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."