Chaos' Full Glory

Chaos' Full Glory

Chapter 1; Part 1

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History Reduced to Comedy

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Aboard the Minbari Station Station Above SHINAR

Sarah Lockhart looked around at the appalled facial expressions of her fellow Captains. Whether Narn, Vree, or Human, the consensus emotion, of the fighting captains of the Interstellar Alliance, was SHOCK. It did not help, that the Minbari presenters of this little show wore supercilious expressions on their smug, oh-so-superior visages. That, she had come to expect. Sarah shifted her weight around in the very wrongly-designed chair, that the Minbari supplied for this "conference". Having to endure the very wrong gravity, as well, did nothing for Sarah's irascible disposition, either.

"Just how did a Human space-station wind up in Minbari hands, a thousand years ago?" asked one very angry confused Narn Captain. He received no answer to it. Not surprising, given his very junior, as a species', status to the Minbari, the subject at hand, and the caste-conscious arrogant presenters' own protocols.

Sarah could not remember the Narn Captain's name. Since the Alliance's formation, she had been having trouble learning the Narn, Vree, and Gaim names, much less keeping the faces and assignments of all her new Alliance "colleagues", straight. She turned her attention to the holographed-replay, which the Minbari presenter, was running through for the third time (In English this time.). 'For us slow-witted Humans in the group.' thought Sarah bitterly. 'It is not like, because of our recent history, we would know Vregan, Narn, or maybe Warrior Caste dialects.'

It, the presentation, was a straightforward narrative. The Minbari, a thousand years ago, were locked In the Last Shadow War.

Captain Lockhart, actually, had never seen the Minbari society in detail; in any presentation from their point-of-view before this Conference. All of her previous history lessons about the Bone-Heads had been received via Minbari artillery fire. She, thus, carried a very Human bias and viewpoint, when it came to Minbari history. So she forced down her anger. She decided to try to be as objective as humanly possible.

The Minbari unintentionally showed themselves, a thousand years ago, to be ferocious, undisciplined, and extremely violent, much as Sarah knew her own species to currently be. Nevertheless, the Bone-Heads had reached Space in spite of their best efforts to kill themselves off in "nuclear-weaponed clan wars". As Europe had been the site of the technology/politics; that nearly killed the EARTH in the twenty-first century: the southern continent of accursed MINBAR, that wrapped itself three-quarters around that evil planet, as a spaghetti-tangle continent of peninsulas, mountain ranges, what Sarah recognized as a string of impact crater lakes, that was the home of such famous Minbari names as the Ch'Domos (The Questioners), the Star-Riders, the Wayfarers, the Black-Stars, the Fire-Workers, the Sword-Walkers, and perhaps another hundred others' clans, that served as the parallel example to the Minbari presenters. They pointed to this Human/Minbari parallel in their history, out to the Human element in their audience, as a point of common connectivity; much as they had tried in the Narn language presentation to use their own city-state period to connect with the Narns, and their competitive economic warfare among the clans, to curry some common understanding with the Vree when they signed the presentation to the Greys. Now they tried the political/religious historical connection to connect with the Humans?!?

They reasoned, thus; by analogy, to curry favor with their Human adversary and current Keepers? Sarah was a better amateur anthropologist than that curried assumptions. Aliens were NOT Human in motivation.

The Minbari carried their internecine warfare to the stars with them. The Spacers, among the Bone-Heads settled out into two great alliances; that Sarah, for the convenience of keeping the cast of malefactors straight in her own mind, labeled as the Minbari Inner System Bone-Head Organized Religious Fanatics (MISBORFS), and the Warrior Caste Joint Outer Belligerent Systems (WACJOBS).

As she almost dozed off in this string of rousing Martial Minbari Religiosity, she noticed casually from underneath her eyelids, that this Human-oriented-presentation, was suddenly markedly different than it had been for the others, the Narns and the Vree; which despite the skewed 'Poor Persecuted Minbari' bias, had been a more or less a superficial sociology blurb; leading up to the Minbari disclosure that they had once held Babylon Four.

This history lesson was different.

It was the Minbari in Space, as they had been, before they encountered Humanity.

Arrogant and brutal, direct and abrupt, the two factions (The MISBORFS and the WACJOBS.) moved among the nearby stars that surrounded MINBAR, and settled and competed between themselves. Woe unto the aliens, who crossed their paths; for though the Minbari factions would cheerfully slag each other over an iron asteroid mining concession, they united against any non-Minbari. That one characteristic, was their one common strength-Minbari Xenophobia.

Sarah noticed some strange things in the Minbari spatial history, Six hundred years in a row, they used rockets, not much better than the particle thrust-engined Orestii and Tethii, that Humanity had sent against the Dilgar in her own first interstellar war. The Minbari, during this six hundred period, alone, fought at least six wars as ferocious as the Dilgar Campaign (Two of those wars between the MISBORFS and the WACJOBS, that de-populated two perfectly good Minbari colonies with thorough nuclear bombardments, Sarah observed.). Yet they did not improve their technology all that greatly? Then, suddenly, the Minbari obtained gravitational propulsion?

Sarah snapped fully awake. Gravidic engines came out of nowhere? Sarah was Earth Alliance military second era, second-generation trained. She had gone through the North American Military Academies and could fairly claim a family service to the Alliance that stretched back to the American Republic and its wars of the Nineteenth century. For crying out loud, one of her ancestors was General Winfield Scott! If there was a practicing Human Warrior Caste in this room, she was it. So, she knew damned-well, the things that a professional naval officer, whose specialized expertise was in the probable prediction, formation, and distribution of technological trees among Humanity's current allies and enemies would be. She was well-grounded, in the hows and whys of general science and technology, how that became a part and the driving force of cultural development. She also understood that cultures (No matter how alien to her own.), had different, but limited recognizable "styles"; when it came to addressing such technology distribution. A conservative-stratified cast-straitened superstitious society like the Minbari would approach innovation and experiment, most cautiously. There was too much of a 'It-cannot-be done', mind-set to the Minbari, to explain their sudden accession to gravitational technology. Doing the extrapolations in her own head, as she now saw this new data, Sarah concluded that the Bone-Heads; unless somebody had gone Newton on them, could not possibly be more advanced than the Centauri now in the present! Yet, back, when Humanity was figuring out how to pick up the pieces of Rome, these idiots make the leap from particle-thrust engines to gravidic propulsion? Sarah knew exactly what it took for Humanity to progress from reaction rockets to reactionless thrusters. (The comparable achievement in her mind to this sudden Minbari accession to such gravidic propulsion). Humanity, could justifiably claim to have discovered, for herself, the principles of negative energy that were behind the reactionless thruster achievement, but in doing the engineering Humanity CHEATED. Sarah knew 'we had helped ourselves to others' work'. Boy, had we helped ourselves!

So the Minbari had done the same for their gravidic technology?

That conclusion felt right in Lockhart's gut.

Did the Bone-Head presenters know, that they had just revealed this fact about themselves?

Sarah looked at them. She had been Academy-trained to read Vregans, so she thought she could use her body-language skills to read the Minbari. 'No.', she decided. The Bone-Heads have no clue. Yet, they were up to something--> aimed specifically at the Humans in this conference. This History Lesson smelled of the Ulterior Minbari Motive. The hackles on the back of Sarah's neck would have stood straight up, if she had not shaved her neck to remove that 'tell'.

They were now going through their version of the First Contact with the Markab. Curious?

That was, Sarah knew from the captured Markab Archives Humanity plundered when they seized the Markab's home world of MARKAR, about the same time that the Star-Rider Clan, leaders of the WACJOB Coalition met the Shadows for the first time.

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Orders

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In the PATRIOT Class ANV Stauffenberg COMMAND and CONTROL...

Mudabis, the Vregan executive officer of the ANV STAUFFENBERG, poured over mapped space. He peered into the Analog map. He looked for the Naval General Staff designated objective. He was very nervous. he had reason to be nervous. He was of the Vree. He was about to take a Human warship, MINUS ITS CAPTAIN, to unknown space, all pursuant to ansible-transmitted encrypted orders.

The Vregan gathered the messenger-book to him from where he left it floating in mid-air and silently read the orders again;



Mudabis folded the orders back up into the message-book, and gave it to the yeoman/messenger floating at parade rest next to him. The Vregan signed dismissal, and the Drazi left to carry the message book back to Signals; where the message would be bureaucratically entered into the ship's permanent record, as a message receipt number and then the text filed with the Signaleer.

In the meantime, Mudabis had to plan a movement to JERICHO from TRIGATI. That meant that some other poor luckless Alliance warship had to mount bodyguard watch on the ANV Glomar Castor, an Alliance strategic-strike weapon, dedicated to overwatch the Minbari colony of SHINAR. He could not remove the ANV Stauffenberg from her patrol area, until she was relieved on station by such a ship. To that end he would have to send-and-receive instructions; until he arranged relief out of ISACINCMINBARI FEDERATION OVERWATCH/TRIGATI STATION, his current controlling higher headquarters. That would be tough enough to arrange through 'Firestorm' Franklin.

Then would come the fun part; moving the Stauffenberg to the Rim, into the GREEN Operating Area. That dicey playground had some very nasty playmates. Plus, he was going in there, at a time when the Alliance had derated the defense, to a condition where the chess-pawn move was SACRIFICE. Anybody, commanding such a pawn in that area of the chess board, had quite a jolly setup as pawns and no-futures went..

The Humans had a sour word for it.


"Mister Belios!" Mudabis signed with his right hand. The Brakiri Navigator turned to face the Vregan First Officer as Mudabis signaled him via his trembler-cuff. Mudabis waited until the Brakiri was looking straight at him; then the little Grey began in rapid AMSIL, "Orders. Prepare a best course-route; start-point TRIGATI end-point JERICHO. Transits are DRALA TOTH and TARELLEN.

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NGS

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NORFOLK STATION

You could see that this old asteroid was mined out. The Belters took out the cadmium they wanted, and left a worm-appled lump of rock. Then Earth Force took it over, as one place to base its Belt anti-piracy patrols in the lawless days of the ^Solar Confederacy^. The place was an iron-nickel shell when they started. They boiled it with mirrors, as it rotated in their sun-powered rotisserie. The rough cylinder expanded balloon-like to twenty times its original size as they shaped it into a naval base. Then Earth Force brought in the traditional snowball from the Kuiper Belt, and loaded their cylinder with CHON volatiles, stuffed the new base with Marines and Navy personnel, and loaded it up with the first iteration of the Starfury.

Then they named it after a famous North American wet-navy base.

The place served as an Earth Force forward base during the IO Campaign. From there, the Earth Force ended the short-lived ^Solar Confederacy^, the pirate-cartel that plagued outer SOL system mining and science operations with the usual ruthlessness, that one expects from a thoroughly professional service that owes its existence to eradicating pirates.

Of course, when the Earth Force eradicated the pirates and took over their Jovian gas-giant planet moon bases, it looked like the Earth Force was out of a job. Who needs a Navy, when all the pirates are gone? We are one big happy species in a very lonely lifeless universe are we not?

Then the Fan-heads showed up.

And then Earth Force needed a base, where they could study war some more; just in case the Fanheads were not the honest peaceful trading confederation of lost human tribes, they claimed to be. 

NORFOLK STATION, they dusted off, reloaded with volatiles, and packed full of offices and computers. Then, they installed their bureaucracy.

The gnomes were busy these days.

There was the Ventuki Conglomerate Police Guild, the Narn Regime Military Command, the Gaim Intelligence Military Biologic, and the Brakiri Rep-Sha Syndicracy to incorporate into the Interstellar Alliance Armed Forces. That was the public work. The private work was the ongoing war. Maybe the average Human these days was acutely aware of EXACTLY what that private work entailed as a result, since it was a rare Human who had not lost a relative; or been personally involved in the resulting fighting at some point, but the average alien was totally clueless as to the work the gnomes undertook.

This was the NGS, the Naval General Staff. About five hundred of those gnomes slaved away to manage the war. The gnomes were about a third Human, a third Vregans, and a sixth Narns, with the last sixth being scattered among the Brakiri, some Drazi and Minbari professional mercenaries, and an important subsection headed by a Gaim Queen. Those were the gnomes who toiled in the Operations, Plans, and Strategy Directorate.

Inside the NGS, the species sorted themselves out, task-wise, according to the type of operation with which they were most expert. For example the Narns were good at unconventional warfare (Terrorism it was, to be pure and simple; though the Narns persisted in calling it freedom-fighting, to paint an acceptable public face on it). The Gaim Intelligence were exceptionally good at planning ground-combat, almost as good as Humanity. The staffer generalists, though were Vregans and Humans. If the truths were to be spoken, aloud, the Vregans were a bit better at planning naval operations, tactically. The Humans, themselves, excelled at grand strategy; though, even here, the Vree could easily teach the younger Human military, a thing or two. It was the Humans and Vree who generally planned the War.

But who was this war against, that the ISANGS planned? That was the question.

If you put all the puzzle pieces together, you might guess the answer correctly.

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More History and More Comedy.

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Wandering the maze in the Meditation Gardens

The Captains spoke among themselves.

'If we are not being scanned, probed, or monitored' thought Sarah, 'by our hospital hosts, then they are much stupider, than their acts indicate.' She smiled, presently, at the short far Narn with whom she conversed. He was the same Spoo-Head, who had asked how the Minbari had gotten hold of BABYLON 4. She recognized his face and name at last. N'Rash was the marsupial butterball. It was hard for her, not to smile at the thought of N'Rash being, somehow, similar to a Kangaroo.

He certainly was Narn earnest, "Nonsense" he replied to her non-committal observation that she had no Earthly idea about what the Minbari were plotting. "The Minbari must have a political agenda. They never tell anyone the whole truth. This is just some ploy of theirs to return to space. Well, I, for one, am with you, both, my Human and Vree comrades in saying; that the Minbari are just like the Dilgar were; xenocidal maniacs. As long as the Minbari play their games, the ALLIANCE should keep them them planet-bound. Better that remain, than have the Minbari's ships appear in the skies of HOMEWORLD to do to my world what they did to EARTH."

Sarah smiled. N'Rash failed to see the fighting rictus, she flashed at him. She might wholeheartedly agree with the fat Narn, as to the practical necessity, yet she smelled Narn Regime politics. She was a scarred survivor of the Clarkist Interregnum. She knew how to guard her private-self against every trick in the arsenal of the alien curious. That included everything that Clark's loyalty-checking telepath toadies had at their disposal, when they tried her loyalty, before she turned on that whole rotten fascist structure, and opened the gates to SOL. She had been Sheridan's Sinon against Clark. This clumsy Narn's attempts, to ascertain her true mind, was thus, rightly laughable. He was hunting for allies among the Captains present, to promote the accession of Narn power in the Alliance. The Regime, always on the lookout for any technology to appropriate, wanted to join the Overwatch in Federation Space to gain observer access to the ways and means. Sarah knew, as a Human, what she thought about that idea. Would she see the Narns equipped with neutron slicers or kinetic mass drivers? Not a chance in a Brakiri Hell, would she allow herself to be used in such a fashion to obtain such a goal.

Still the Narns were part of the ALLIANCE. She had to play the game. She counter-questioned the plump Narn, "Why do 'you' suppose the Minbari are showing us this history, now?" She reflected the Narn's own question back at him, in the hopes that the Spoo-Head might have some inspired thought, that frankly escaped her in the thinking. She was careful to keep her tone neutral, even though she addressed the Narn, in Narnish. N'Rash was frankly at a loss, as to how to answer her. He tried to clumsily disengage from the conversation, when he finally discovered he was being gently led around in circles. Narns were not good at handling reflective questioning.

Now a more formidable adversary approached Sarah Lockhart along the maze. It was one of the Minbari 'history professors', Sarah saw sourly. He was obviously Religious Caste. The comedy was finished. Serious war-games were afoot. 'Might as well open fire, first, as was Human doctrine against Minbari, ever since Jankowski, by error, established the prudent custom.' Sarah decided.

Captain Lockhart cleared her throat; "Greetings, honored host. Just what has frightened you so much, that you would put aside your pride and approach us 'lowly ones'?" She said these words in the Star-Rider Clan variant of the Warrior Caste dialect. It was a deliberate choice, she made. She recognized a Clan Ch'Domo accent in the 'history professor'. She used the Star-Rider dialect to remind the Bone-Head that his enemy knew him, well. For her own benefit she asked him, "Why us?" pointing at herself, to indicate her Humanity, and not the Alliance. She added for effect: "Why now?"

To her surprise, the Bone-Head motioned to her, Human fashion, saying "Follow me." to her to follow him. She unconsciously dropped her gun-hand to her side, and reminded herself, as she did so, that during a diplomatic conference; she was supposed to be unarmed. Still old habits are hard to break, as she followed the Minbari to where he led her. She mentally sent the agreed alarm-signal to her own Overwatch, that followed her discreetly, and tagged along behind the Minbari.

It was a small room. The holograph projector was either Human-designed or specifically adapted to match exact  Human-specifications. Thus the image was sharper, crisper, and far more blue, than what Sarah had seen on the Minbari equipment, presented the week before. There was much less red haze.

She watched the Minbari Religious Caste member, silently, present to her; and to her alone, this particular record of the Minbari boarding of BABYLON 4, this thousand years past. Minbari ships, disturbingly similar to the Tinashi frigates that Earth Force encountered as escorts for Sharlins during the Minbari/Human War; she saw approach the Earth Alliance Station. You could not mistake a Human base-station It had the 'stegosaurus' energy collector spines that one normally associated with Human free-space structures. Ineptly recorded, (Like so many things the Minbari did, Sarah noticed.), the presentation showed the launching of Minbari transports surprisingly similar in outline to current Human transfer shuttles. The lack of particle thrust engines for the Minbari 'pod-ships' was the only discernable gross difference, between the two general engineering solutions. 'How many ways could you design a box', thought Sarah as she saw the Bone-Head troop shuttles dock within the Human station. Then she saw something that absolutely flabbergasted her. It was such a shock that she felt her legs almost buckle under her . Those were Star-Rider Warriors bumbling through the station interior,, as she expected. They wore the dull Warrior Caste useless strange body armor, that was so familiar to those who were students of the Minbari. Sarah knew the Clan colors. They, the Warriors, advanced in a completely insane, closed-order, staggered one-plasma-grenade-kills-all-of-us echelon; that no Earth Force ('ALLIANCE' Sarah corrected herself.), Naval boarding-party or Marine breeching-team would ever adopt; when moving through an 'enemy' held structure. Stooge-like, but thoroughly cautious, the Minbari meandered wonder-eyed through the Human Station. It was apparent, that the Minbari were as lost as one could be, and still claim to explore with some idea of where they were.

Sarah watched them stumble through it. This was an Earth Alliance Technology artifact, clunker-style 2250. Still a sense of Species-pride swelled up inside the ALLIANCE Human Captain. Maybe Babylon 4 was not as much to look upon, as the Minbari Station in which she was currently cooped, but that Human-made thing had survived a temporal-displacement, and when it had arrived (To where-ever in the space-time that passed for reality in those accursed days), that base station had performed to the limit, as the Earth Alliance had designed it. Somehow, Babylon 4 had served the Minbari-led coalition in their Shadow War, as Babylon 5 served the Alliance in this last Shadow War.

Funny fact. The Minbari never understood the Trojan Horses/Wolves-among-the-Folds that Earth Force designed the Babylon Stations to be. Inept Bone-heads. Even in their past, with Valen, their greatest prophet, and war leader to show them the proper way of things, how to use a Babylon Station, the Minbari never learned their lessons well. Valen, from the scanty records that Human historians recovered from the wrecked burned archives at Tuzanor, would have washed out at a Human war academy.  

The Minbari, in the holo, poked cautiously into the empty artifact that surrounded them. 'Totally clueless', Sarah thought. They had no plan, or even a notion as to how to proceed in the situation in which the Star-Riders found themselves. "Amateurs." Sarah muttered. She had some idea, they, of the distant past, might meet something that would instantly be recognizable, to someone, like her.

But what met them, was the most bizarre trio of the unexpected results, that she could have possibly imagined.

Okay; so the Vorlons she expected; but the Bone-Head that the Light-Bulbs flanked? Nobody could mistake that face. No one in the ALLIANCE, who knew the famous Heroes like she did; Sheridan, Hague, Dmitrinov, Franklin or Ivanova, could ever mistake that face!

She said "That is..."

"The blessed Valen." supplied the Minbari, helpfully.

"Jeffrey Sinclair!" contradicted Sarah Lockhart. She was flabberghasted. The first commander of Babylon 5 had ridden Babylon 4, back into the past to the First Shadow War? That might explain how the Bone-heads won that war.  To be honest; Jeffrey Sinclair was not that good of a military teacher. He had been a lousy flight instructor to Sarah's Lockhart's class of Fury pilots. Still, he might have been just good enough a leader ,to explain a few curious things from that Minbari past. If you, as a crazy Human, knew the future, you could probably reliably use that advantage to good effect in the past, especially with the superstitious gullible Minbari. 

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Cast of Heroes

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Officer's Wardroom ANV Stauffenberg.

Mudabis glared in anger at the assembled command group.

"Bastards." was the one word description that T'Kann, the Ship's Pilot/Helmsman gave to the NGS.

Mudabis signed, himself, in resignation. "Identifying the NGS, as the NGS, is redundant, Mister T'Kann. It is like saying the idiots-in-charge, are the idiots-in-charge. It would be more helpful of you, to suggest how we are being manipulated by their orders."

"Why ask such a stupid question, Commander, Sir?" said Belios, the Brakiri Bursar, in irritation. "The NGS decides, that we are children to whom they can safely lie. Once you gave the order to head for the Rim, and I found out that we were to proceed without the Captain, I knew that we were being deceived. Do you, for a moment think, that the NGS dare issue an order, like this one, to a sane HUMAN commander? Humans have much more sense, than to go blindly charge off to their deaths."

The Drazi, Unealas, the ANV Stauffenberg's Master Chief Gunner, cackled laugher filled the wardroom.

Mudabis interrupted abruptly signing," As do Vregans, Mister Belios. Since you knew direct from me, that we were headed for the Rim, Mister Navigator, I assume you put your 'skills' to good use, as I asked of you for a change, and did something 'Brakiri useful' about our situation?"

Belios, smiled a predatory Brakiri smile, "Aye, acting Captain, Sir. And I did profit richly, thereby." He held up his hand, to forestall the Vregan's objection. "No, Sir, I did not have anyone killed to get the information for which you asked. And its best of you, not to inquire of what I did to come by this." He produced a holographic cube-the staple information-exchange among the Ventuki Information Guilds. Belios said, "This should be most interesting to us."; as he put it on the Wardroom table white-faced side up. He pressed the cube twice on its white facet.

Unealas, the Stauffenberg's Drazi Master Gunner, leaned forward from where he sat, strapped into his chair. He  said with is usual sarcasm, "Harrumph. Another Belios sure-thing? What piece-of-nothing, you buy this time, want-to-be-Syndicalist? This, like that tip on the outlaw Minbari Torvathi frigate; that get us all prize-monies?" He snorted in derision. "We sneak in and set trap. Some Minbari Torvathi we find! Bounced we, by two damned-stupid Tinashis! If not for Captain Lockhart, we be all dead instead of smashed-up. I, still, two broken ribs and jaw healing have from that last sure-thing, Syndicalist want-to-be!" .

Belios, put up his own hands in an offensive/defensive posture. Unealas was known to take fiascos, personally. No amount of explanation by the Brakiri: that he was as much a victim of bogus information, as the Drazi; would help. Besides, Captain Lockhart managed to escape the Black-Star Clan ambush; killing one Tinashi, outright; and crippling the other Tinashi, forcing that ship to flee for its life, when the two Minbari renegades ambushed the ANV Stauffenberg at SOLLA GAN. So, in truth, there was some bounty-money for the ANV Stauffenberg's crew, as Belios saw it. And Belios had enjoyed, enormously and profitably, the three month's leave, while they laid over at YANKEE STATION; replacing most of the ANV Stauffenberg's starboard-weapons' mounts; and hence repaired the burned-out reactionless thruster-pack. Belios, also, tried not to dwell too negatively on the fifteen Furies, and the pilots they lost from the battered ANV Stauffenberg's Flight Group in his little miscalculation. He stole a furtive look at the frown-faced Human CAG, Thaddeus Keffer, who slouched in his own chair at the end of the table. 'You could not win all the time, now could you?' thought Belios.

While the Drazi gunner and the Brakiri bursar glared at each other in serious mutual not-admiration, not paying attention to Belios' ill-gotten holo-cube, the three other officers present; Mudabis, T'Kann, and Senior Lieutenant Matthew Keffer, the Brakiri bursar-hating ANV Stauffenberg's CAG watched silently.

It was not very entertaining. About ten minutes in length, it showed a Drazi Sun-Hawk moving along a Jump-gate route that none of them recognized. It was following a Human Explorer Class ship, piggybacking its way through the Jump-gates that the Human ship left like pearls, oyster-like, at each leg of its route. The little Drazi ship would work out the activation codes for each new gate. She, then, would use the gates to jump through the Human-laid circuit.

Keffer muttered, "Clever Snake-Head bastards. We do the the initial survey in-jumps, establish our NAVSTAR beacons, and lay out the circuit. They send a single scout to tail us, then use the gates we set, before we can properly integrate the entire Jump-gate Circuit. Then, they run in an exploitation team, and steal everything they can find loose, not nailed down, before we fortify the route. Cute." Keffer did not take into consideration,  how the Master Chief Gunner might react to Keffer's overt Human speciest bigotry so-spoken.  

The display showed quick shots of Human-built interferometric optronic sensor buoys being deployed as huge drift-mines by the Human Explorer Class ship.. The Explorer, then, very clumsily opened a wormhole against the background of space, as if a sudden urgent hurry to leave the space immediately seized it to quit that locale; wherein it found itself. Keffer thought that unusual. For the presented viewpoint, to him; did not look much like gun-camera footage that one might expect from a Human ship, small-craft, fighter, or drift mine. The holo-video presentation had an acutely alien feel to it, as if a non-Human mind was presenting this point-of-view.

Wormhole inflation followed hard upon the Explorer's Real-space departure event. The same fear that gripped Thaddeus, when he was at Corianna Six, he now re-lived. It was a Vorlon, that came out of that wormhole exit. A Transport he judged by its overall shape. (Without a known gauge mark; you could not estimate true size in space, Keffer knew.).  The Vorlon quickly sniffed its way over to the nearest of the Human drift-mines. It, then, encapsulated the drift-mine which was a third as large, as itself, in a corona discharge of greenish static glowing electricity. While the Transport busied itself doing this incomprehensible act: in the background, something distant black and menacing, faded into being.

The Vorlon quickly pivoted to face this new in-comer and the two exchanged weapons fire.

"Lightning-gun." said T'Kann, the ANV Stauffenberg's Pilot/Helmsman; unnecessarily identifying the Transport's weapon. The stocky Narn peered at the indistinct black image at which the transport fired. It returned fire with blackish-violet pulses of light. "I don't recognize the bolters, but that's a Shadow Black-Widow Scout-ship." he said.

Belios said, "That cannot be! They left! They promised."

Unealas cackled yet again. "You believe pouchling tales, Syndicalist want-to-be? Maybe Human Tooth-Bird you believe? Leaves candy for Human younglings, when they lose teeth? Know you? Hops like Lopar. Has long floppy ears and white furry tail? Goes cluck-cluck? You sure one big Syndicalist-dreamer Brakiri!"

Mudabis signed quickly calling all present to attention. 'Unealas and Belios were headed for some kind of honor-feud in the future', he foresaw. He would gladly space the winner of that contest, then, but now, presently, was not the TIME.

The Drazi and Brakiri glared at one another as all fell silent. The Human, Keffer, and the Narn, T'Kann, busied themselves in-putting into their Amigas what they saw in the holograph.

As for what Mudabis did? The Vregan felt very tired and very old, as he started mechanically inputting into his own Amiga his own interpretation of the data. He wondered, 'How does Captain Lockhart do it? How does she lead these idiots?'

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Another Hero at the Other End of Sheer Stupidity.

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In the Quartermaster's Compartment

'Public transmitted executions are supposed to be good for morale.' thought Pi, Lee. Watching this latest incompetent get what he deserved, sent shivers down his spine. The ISN commentator came in-cameo to put the usual liberal spin on this bit of information. According to the news-bunny, poor General Lefcourt had been let down by inferior technology, treacherous subordinates, and a hopeless tactical situation. Pi, Lee smiled at that one. The Quartermaster-chief of the ANV Stauffenberg knew something personally about General Lefcourt.

The general had been been a political flunky for every Earth Alliance Presidency from the disastrous Edmonton to the ineffectual Santiago. He then stooged for the TRAITOR, Clark. He, Lefcourt, had been cashiered after his disastrous leadership during the Minbari War. Santiago brought him back to ride herd on the mutinous Earth Force, who objected to the Santiago Administration's harsh MARS policies. Then Lefcourt had turned a blind eye, when it was obvious to those who paid attention, who had blown the hapless Santiago to everlasting glory. Clark kept Lefcourt on, as his own pet General, after flash-flushing his predecessor into a radioactive fireball.

Pi, Lee never understood Clark. If that imbecile had just waited his turn and played democracy instead of turning Tojo on Humanity; then he could have had an honorable presidency. Instead? Civil war. Poor Earth was subjected to Sheridan's Remedy. Aliens were, now, inside the Alliance!

So; Lefcourt failed to nip Sheridan in the bud; when he, Sheridan, was just a Captain in command of a mere space station. Then he, Lefcourt, bungled the blockade at Pi Orion? On top of this; when Sheridan lifted the Orion Colony blockade; he, Lefcourt, botched the SOLIAN defense; when Sheridan's second-in-command drove from there, directly on EARTH. Pi, Lee doubted that anyone, not even Sheridan, himself, could have stopped the Ivanova; but Lefcourt was totally inept in the defense, losing all of the 'specials' at Sector 49. He should have blown the Section 13 bases. He should have ordered the 'specials' to fall back upon the outer defenses of SOL; itself, and massed the fleet to fight at the IO Gate. But no, Lefcourt could not do the things. There was no glory in that sane retreat. Pi, Lee had been on the receiving end of Ivanova's message to the Clarkists at Sector 49.

And at the end? When Clark turned the AEGIS defense grid upon the EARTH and trenched China (Yet, again it  happened! Were not the Minbari enough?); Lefcourt just sat in his Omega orbiting Mars. He let assorted fanatics and madmen kill his fellow citizens. He did not bring his fleet to join Sheridan in neutralizing the AEGIS network; before it fired upon the EARTH. Lefcourt had to be arrested by Captain Elizabeth Lockley, his fleet second-in-command, before the MARS orbiting Earth Force ships, Lefcourt commanded, joined Sheridan. Pi, Lee smiled. Shooting Lefcourt was the correct action by the present Catherine Morris government. 'Was not an object lesson needed, as to what happened to you, when you are Petain?' he thought.

Pi, Lee's reverie was interrupted by T'Kann. The Narn helmsman had taken a liking to pounding the hatches on the ANV Stauffenberg with his mailed fist, instead of using the convenient chain attached hatch hammer, which Humanity's demented Lockheed engineers provided for the purpose. T'Kann yelled loudly, announcing himself with his best Narn war-cry. That was decibels enough to hurt Lee's ears. "Enter, Sir!" he yelled in reply.

T'Kann grunted, as he swung the heavy counter-sprung hatch, and stepped through the hatchway into the compartment. Lee turned off his Amiga at the point where the GREG party was stuffing Lefcourt into the body-bag, prior to dumping it onto the litter, to be carried off the field.

T'Kann said "Ugh!"

Obviously the Narn disapproved of the current Human politics. "You should really find a better means to reward incompetence." he remarked disgustedly.

Lee answered the Narn. "We have a better means, but it is too grisly to broadcast to the general populace; or so the Public Information Office tells us. Now what brings you to the dubious hospitality of my little nook and tiny cranny at three bells of the Afternoon Watch?"

T'Kann plonked his own Amiga on Pi, Lee's desk and turned it on.

"This just came in." he said.

Pi, Lee was unhappy. "That is not a Cotton Tender." he said sourly.

T'Kann agreed. "That is definitely not the ANV(LC) Hemp."

Both of them watched the cross-ship transfer of volatiles, fuel, and consumables between the Patriot Class warship and this new ^support ship^.

"What is it?" asked Lee.

"That is the ANV(PL) Charles Gordon." said T'Kann.

"A Pathfinder?" exclaimed Lee. "That is a Pathfinder? A Gate-builder ship they send to replenish us? What kind of idiots send a strategic deep-survey ship to replenish a bodyguard ship on Minbari Overwatch?"

T'Kann said, "The same kind of idiots, who would send that bodyguard ship out to the Rim."

Then the Narn told the Quartermaster-chief just where they were going.

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Here There Be Dragons

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At TRIGATI STATION orbiting SHINAR

Sarah Lockhart opened the messenger-book. It was a book, keyed to her genetically. So, as far as she was concerned, it was relatively safe to do this evolution. Anybody else, who tried to open the book, would get a seven million joule message for their troubles.

Inside the book was a small Amiga addressed to her from her second-in-command, Mudabis.

The Amiga was of Vree technology (Quite superior to Human technology in this application.), so when she set it on her Minbari-designed desk, ('Why did everything, the Bone-Heads built as furniture, have to have such tilted surfaces?' she wondered.) and turned on its emitter. It put up a full Analog out of its small self; much larger than the puny tabletop-display the Human equivalent would.

Mudabis appeared in full-form. The Vregan's holograph bowed to her. "In accordance with your request, Madam Captain; I sought information from the Police Guild. Herewith I present to you, what we, of the Vree, know about Corianni Six." he signed.

Lockhart knelt on the Minbari knee cushions that passed for chairs among the Bone-Heads. She watched the battle unfold from a Vregan point-of-view. She had fortunately missed that little set-to, as she was recovering from wounds she received, while she was playing Sinon for Sheridan, at the time. But like most of the Alliance military, who were not at that battle she knew a little something about it. Nothing of the events at Corianna Six was published, publicly. In fact, most people inside the ALLIANCE, outside of the Navy, barely knew that a titanic battle had destroyed more than two-thirds of the old Earth Force outside of the MINBARI OVERWATCH.

What she saw, was a space battle that dwarfed anything; that she had ever fought in; either in the Dilgar War, or in the Earth/Minbari War, or any other combat in which she fought. Sarah had fought in some of the big ones; so she had a good benchmark by which to gauge the scales at issue in this presentation.

Images of Brakiri Aviokis, Vree war-saucers, Human warships (Many Novas and Omegas, she saw.), some Narn T'Lothis and G'Quans, the illegal Minbari-built Anla Shok White Stars; Gaim, Lu Ha Mat, Pak'mara, Abbai, and other ships that Sarah could not even identify according to species, criss-crossed vectors with obviously Vorlon and 'Shadow' vessels. Detonations of mine-fields in the battle-space occurred more than once. "Johnny Nuke Them." Sarah commented quietly to herself. About two-thirds of the way through the battle, it was obvious that the Vorlons and the Shadows were chopping the polyglot LONAW/Earth Alliance fleet to pieces in the First Ones' endeavors, to jab gingerly at each other. Lockhart sat in stunned angry silence, as she saw an unusually large Vorlon ship blow Corianna Six's medium-sized moon into fragments with one shot.

"Captain Wallace was right about that one. The weapon magnitudes, Excolsus estimated and published, when he wrote his 'History of the Shadow War' were wrong!" she said aloud to no-one.

Lockhart winced, whenever an Omega or Nova was speared by a Vorlon quantum discharge cannon, or sliced by a Shadow boser death-ray. She was surprised, to see that the Human warships survived long enough to return fire at their tormenters. Human particle bolters, or particle beams, were totally ineffectual against the Vorlon Onions or the Shadow Crabs, depending on the particular tormentor of the moment; and of course the Human-built ship, either so pierced or sliced in two, exploded: but they lasted and kept firing longer in a beam-rake, than any of the alien allies so caught. At least the Human ships did some kind of damage.

The rest of them, the aliens, seemed to go zipping around as clay pigeons, putting forth a senseless useless fireworks show. Most of them were being splashed with regular monotony, when they 'accidentally' strayed into Vorlon or Shadow weapon locks, when the First Ones turned their weapons on each other.

Sarah looked at the fighter fur-balls, meandering through the battle-space. Abbai and Brakiri fighters, ('The worst-designed singleton fighters among the Young One's fleets, Sarah knew; if you did not include the Narns.) and their base-ships were contemptuously swept away as the insects they were. Human Star-furies swept into the holovideo, into her view chasing, and being chased by Vorlon fighters.

Here the battle between First One and Young One was more equal. For every four or five Human fighters being vaporized, a Vorlon fighter exploded. Sarah watched in painful silence as Auroras, Badgers, and Thunderbolts attacked Vorlon Transports, or the smaller Battle-crabs to no Kamikaze effect.

Only the Vree seemed to prosper in this fight. Whether Xill or Xort, their war-saucers made slashing tangent attacks at the edges of the battle-space, picking their spots with extreme care. The Vree ships, so strafing through their runs, inevitably followed their Human colleagues into glory, but as the war-saucers slashed their way through, wherever their short-ranged anti-matter streamers caught the First Ones' fighters, they swept the skies clear when they raked through.

'They, still, can teach us a thing or two about the death dance.' thought Sarah as she admired the exploding Ventuki Police Guild cruisers.

She, then, saw four Battle-crabs chasing a Vorlon cruiser. They attacked, as a pack, and sliced the Onion into eight fire-blossoming pieces. Sarah did the calculations of how many joules each Crab contributed to that cuisinart. As she was arriving at the ten to the twenty-two joule figure, she saw something most unusual. A FAST Nova chased a small Battle-crab. The Oddball Nova speared the Crab on a beam of white light. A Polarizer? Both, the Nova and the Crab, seemed to stop their pell-mell rocket-chase across the sky. The Oddball Nova spewed forth Furies and HAWKs. Once more totally unconscious to the fact that she spoke aloud, Sarah said, "Get Him. Get Him. Get Him!" She silently cheered, when the Crab started to crumple like a wad of paper under the white beam's throbbing illumination, Aurora strafing, and HAWK impacts. The Crab, visibly, tried to break the beam-lock; but the Oddball Nova pitched, yawed, rolled, wriggled; whatever it took to keep the beam on the Crab. Both ships were totally oblivious to the universe around them, as this death-dance played out. As Sarah saw the white-beam burn to almost black-brightness, she understood clearly that the Oddball Nova captain fire-walled  everything. She expected the Oddball Nova to burst asunder under the strain. Instead, it was the Crab that burst. That Oddball Nova was Clark's gift to the Alliance. Sarah was Captain of a Patriot Class successor to that Oddball Nova. Ironic, that it was X-technology that killed the, rather small, Crab. The Oddball Nova could not remain in place to savor her victory, but instead quickly fled, when a trio of Vorlon cruisers turned toward her vector, as if intending to merge.

A new monstrosity appeared, in an arena already filled with monsters aplenty. Lockhart recognized it from threat briefings that she had received from Earth Force Naval Interlligence. It was a Shadow Planet Killer. Sarah had expected this fiendish device to head for CORIANNA VI. Instead; the SPK unfolded where it was, and seemed to frame the entire center of the battle-space as it snow-flaked apart. As it deployed its petals, fully, the oily SPK seemed to immobilize every vessel in that battlespace. Sarah saw the three pursuing Vorlon cruisers chasing the Oddball Nova, fall out of control and tumble along their baseline vectors. The SPK fired three 'missiles' at the tumbling Vorlons, from its nearest launch node to the Vorlon cruisers. The Vorlons fire-blossomed, enveloped in the terrifyingly huge warhead bursts like beer-cans caught in a grenade blast. 'Oh, oh, Computer-driven with no organic CPUs.' thought Sarah.

Lockhart searched for her Oddball Nova. She saw, astonishingly, that she, the ship, was maneuvering clear of the SPK, trying to recover her fighters. 'Why does she not jump clear?' she thought. 'Either she cannot, or she dare not' Lockhart concluded. "If she is playing Shadow? She does not want to call attention to herself. But she just killed a Crab." Sarah Lockhart said aloud in frustration.

The rest of the battle was anti-climatic as far as Sarah was concerned. She saw a Drazi Sun-Hawk take a missile fired by the SPK, intended to hit the White Star ship on which John Sheridan supposedly talked to the emissaries of the Vorlons and the Shadows, and told them "to get the Hell out of our Galaxy!"

Whether Sarah believed that version of the story? She had not finally made up her mind, quite yet.

That depended, on what you believed about John Sheridan, at any given moment. Sarah had believed enough about him, then, to smuggle in Sheridan's Trojan Horse telepaths, that immobilized the SOLIAN Home Fleet.

'Quite a hero, our Johnny-boy', thought Sarah, presently and sarcastically. 'First, he lets the Minbari build the White Star Anla Shok fleet under Humanity's collective noses. Then, while he chases Clark off the Presidential throne, Johnny-Boy, cons most of Humanity and the LONAW into a war, to drive the Shadows and the Vorlons out of the galaxy.'

She, still, had mixed feelings about that last result. Humanity was actually getting somewhere with the Vorlons, when Johnny Boy went amok, and killed their Light-Bulb Ambassador to Babylon 5.

That little chicanery, on top of William Morgan Clark's double-crossing the Shadows, solidly put Humanity behind the Eight Ball, as far as those two First Ones were concerned.

She sincerely hoped those two First Ones problems were permanently gone.

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Mudabis Out on a Limb.

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COMMAND and CONTROL; ANV Stauffenberg

The Vregan sat uncomfortably in the place where Captain Lockhart normally sat. This was not Mudabis' first in-war command. But the time, when he last was a master of a vessel in war, Mudabis had been a young leader of a Vree war-saucer, a troop carrier of the Xork Class. He was not expected to do much in it; besides follow the true combat ships, after they had cleared the enemy battle-space of opponents, and then land his Police Guild Enforcers upon those, whom the Vree sought to rectify. When the Ventuki Conglomerate joined the Alliance; he had been a comfortable mid-level staff specialist within the Police Guild. He was a career expert in fleet logistics movements and the use of naval supply basing. Somehow, when it came time to redistribute the Police Guild among the Alliance fleet: to integrate the Ventuki military into the Alliance, Mudabis, who thought he would be assigned to a Vree logistics/supply unit, as either the Logistician, or the Bursar Master, found himself deposited as the second-in-leadership aboard this Human monster of a Patriot Class battle-carrier. 'What do I know about managing a Human warship in battle?' thought Mudabis. 'Nothing.'

Take this latest missive from those geniuses who ordered the ANV Stauffenberg to charge toward the Rim. He expected the NGS pile of excrement to contain 'some' useful data. He just was not looking forward to another Mid-watch of lost sleep to find it. He understood, now, why Lockhart was always so tired. He remembered her joking comment that she, Lockhart, once made, "I wish that I were like you, Mudabis, then I would have the Vregan ability to sleep, while standing with my eyes open. Or maybe I should wish to be a Narn? Then I could go without sleep for a week, like T'Kann?"

'But the Universe was cruel', Mudabis supposed. The Humans' synaptic nerve speeds and their unusual physical endurance were traits for which cyclic sleep for them was necessary. It was a harsh tradeoff. Like a Narn's brute strength was something for which the marsupials paid, by being more susceptible to low pressure-sickness.

Still, Mudabis had his orders. And those orders read to him to proceed to JERICHO to mount the rescue of the Alliance ship ANV Hercules or find out what happened to her.

And to do that, he was supposed to organized a forward fleet depot? When Mudabis thought that one over, he had a sudden sick thought. If there was one facet of operations in which his Captain was a little weak, it was base-of-operations logistics. Could it be that he was going ahead, as the preparer Akalius among his own people had in legend: to make straight the crooked business for the great achiever of truth, Makalan?

He thought about that myth and what happened to Akalius and then to Makalan, within it. Both of them died in glory. Mudabis was quite certain, that he did not want to die in glory. It was not a profitable outcome. He sort of thought Sarah Lockhart would accept the Human necessity of glory, but would prefer any practical alternative.  

But that set straight the crooked path part, bothered him more than the death in glory implication. If Mudabis was being stupidly NGS sent forth secretly to set up a forward base at JERICHO, then why did the same orders contain a prudent reference to the cut-and-run provisions of WARPLAN GREEN, if the Alliance forces ran into the actual provisions set forth in Condition Two?

This contradiction of intent, Mudabis thought about, alone, in the middle of his crowded C&C.

And as he thought about this, he began to understand how a combat leader among his people, (Or among the Humans, he suddenly realized.), thinks. Paranoia. In simple Vregan, it meant that whoever 'they' were; 'they' were out to get you. In the terms, under which Mudabis currently operated, 'they' sometimes might actually include the enemy.

The enemy?

Who were they?

They were somebody who could take on an Omega. Now there were several known powers that could take on an Omega. The Centauri could. Certainly his own people could. But as he called up from his own Amiga the latest NGS orders text;


And that was the problem. His orders showed him that the NGS knew that there was a definite enemy out there, but they claimed by implication of imprecision, that they had no idea in a three cup Monte game, of who or what the enemy was? He could not believe that one.

Mudabis, en-route to the battle-space to function as their 'eyes-present', did not like that one bit. If he could make an educated guess, as to what had killed Captain Pasternak and his battle-honored ANV Hercules, why could not the NGS, who were supposed to be thecollective BRAINS in the ISAN?

Mudabis thought the killers were the Drakh.

It fitted with the need for five to six such hyper-space capable units to kill an Omega.

The Demon-Head cowards had clashed with the Alliance, enough; that Mudabis had received the fleet intelligence estimate generated by the ANI based on those clashes as a primary briefing.



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That was some report, as Mudabis reviewed it eidetically from memory in his Vregan private-self. That gibberish, just about told, him that he was going to JERICHO, to possibly set up the belated ALLIANCE forward base; that NGS had recommended three years ago, when they first published their FIE on the Drakh.

That also explained, why he was assigned as Number One on a Human Patriot Class warship. The ANV Stauffenberg had the EACOS to handle the organizational logistics that he, Mudabis, Police Guild officer, trained by the Transportation and Delivery Guild in industrial-supply logistics, thanks to a Police Guild contract with T&D(G), was definitely expert. Anyone expecting an ALLIANCE Fleet Command Ship setting up a Naval Depot, wouldn't see one at JERICHO. Instead one would see a lot of Ventuki independent trader/miner small-craft; whose crews suddenly followed some "gold-rush" economic incentive to JERICHO. Mudabis wondered what the cover-story would be, to explain the sudden traffic? No matter. For once, he wouldn't be the one out in the lonely, among the crew. He had an idea that many of the ANV Stauffenberg's personnel would soon know how he felt inside this beast; as he commanded them to do the unfamiliar and the strange.

That still didn't change the recon/rescue mission which he would have to conduct. He, Mudabis, thought that the NGS had given him that mission in their belated realization; that maybe preparation time had run out on their WARPLAN(GREEN).

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End of Chapter 1; Part 1


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A little CHAOS is a GOOD thing.

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You can't follow the game without a program.

This is the war map,



A larger more "tactically useful' version of the map is seen here:

 

Most of the fighting will occur along the RIM.

As you read Chaos'Full Glory, You will see where ITCON and STD tie in.

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Chapter 1; Part 2

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Aboard the Minbari Station Station Above SHINAR

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Anla Shok

N'Rash, the fat Narn, seemed to be Sarah Lockhart's constant shadow everywhere these days. He certainly followed her around the Minbari station; despite Lockhart's pointed polite social warnings to him that his company was not appreciated. Politics. You could not be outright rude to a fellow ALLIANCE Captain in the presence of the Bone-Heads. The Minbari might smell weakness, and exploit the division for their own nefarious ends. Or so came her instructions from the ALLIANCE Overwatch . So; Sarah could not apply the normal Human-style polite diplomacy. She was not allowed to kick the pesky Narn in his 'personality'.

She found it almost impossible to arrange the meetings with her Minbari Interlocutor cum private tutor/history professor as a result. Instead she wound up as a prey animal to that information predator; who doled out the bits as he saw fit. It took Sarah four meetings with him to learn the Ch'Domo acolyte's name was Lokay. He was of the Fourth Order, which already tagged him as a 'political personage' in Sarah's book of funny things which smelled bad in Copenhagen. That Minbari clown was probably an agent of the Grey Council, which meant he was about as trustworthy as a Special Intelligence Directorate operative, as far as she was concerned.

So, she made her way through to her fifth meeting with Lokay in this Minbari Escher puzzle of a space station. "I know you, Minbari think you are artists. You pride yourselves on your mastery of gravity;but why do you have to build everything with such an obtuse angle, or with so many curves? Also why is everything so damned PINK?" Sarah said this into the air, specifically for the benefit of the two sets of hidden observers who monitored her, as well as for the fat clumsy Narn who shadowed her, so ostentatiously, by trying to hide among a small flock of the rainbow-robed Minbari. He, N'Rash, might have as well as tried to hide from Lockhart, among the too few free standing plants that dotted the foyer of the Station 'horticultural park'.

"To hell with it!" Sarah said to the air again for the same exact reason. She made a direct approach to the fat Narn, and before he could disengage from close contact by running; which he should have done if he was any kind of student of Human body language, he was promptly decked with a swift Lockhart-delivered open-palm punch, to his throat.

The shocked Minbari, who looked at the two Alliance Captains, the one Human standing with her hands upon her hips; looking down upon; and the prostrate Narn, gurgling, clutching his throat, looking helplessly up at her: remained frozen in indecisive inaction.

Sarah said; "When I told you to keep your distance, N'Rash, you should have listened." She looked at the Minbari gathered around. They, now, whispering among themselves. Sarah declared with authority."This one intruded upon my personal honor." Sarah said this pointedly in the Star-Rider Clan Warrior Caste dialect. She hoped that she was not too mistaken in what she had seen present among the Bone-Heads, before she decided to send fat N'Rash to the Minbari hosts' doctors to pester THEM. She was not mistaken.

A Warrior Caste Minbari, in the Star-Rider Clan livery, stepped forth from the riot-colored gaggle of his kind. His somber black uniform could not hide his youth or his nervousness to Sarah's professional Human Warrior Caste eyes. Yet, he asserted easy command over the Worker Caste Minbari, who stood as sheep, around him.

"What do you wish done with that?" he asked her, as he pointed at the Narn.

"Take the Narn to your healers, but out of my SIGHT." declared Captain Lockhart. She deliberately played upon his Minbari psychology, as she uttered these words. Minbari Warriors prized 'Honor'. While they still might not understand the 'honor' ground rules among her own species, they thought they understood the common rules of 'public affrontage'. Sarah exploited that Minbari misunderstanding to her maximum advantage.

The Star-Rider Warrior gave Sarah the Warrior's acknowledgment of a caste-equal. He motioned to four of the Workers to take the hapless N'Rash from the vicinity. The four-burden bearers, each grabbed an arm or leg, and dragged the Narn off; to where, Sarah did not care. She had other matters at present to concern her.

'My name is Banak of the Second Order Ranking among." said the Warrior.

"The Star-Riders." said Sarah Lockhart, " You are my bodyguard, assigned to me by your People, to ensure that no harm befalls me? Sarah asked.

Banak nodded once in the Minbari fashion.

"Good." Sarah decided. She quickly made up her mind. Right now she needed a friend among the Minbari. This young-naive-half-trained-impressionable male; who had so foolishly publicly blown his cover to her in this very obviously-arranged-for-his-benefit set-to, would be a good one. Mistakes, like Banak just made, she could teach him to avoid, as she recruited him. It would not be the first time that an Earth Force Captain had pilfered loyalty from among the locals. Now to turn on her Human charm to hook the new catch, so she could reel him in.

"I am hungry, Banak. Is there a place where Warriors can eat?" asked Lockhart. Recruitment was a lot like romance. 'You sealed the deal over a meal, and if the recruit supplied the veal?' Lockhart was very practical.

Banak said in reply, "There is nowhere, among the places where I eat, that a Human would be welcomed. But there is a Mixed-Caste place-of-dining where we may partake of real food."

Lockhart smiled instead of frowned, which was her first impulse. Banak did not notice her facial muscles adjust into that 'friendly smile'. "Fine." Sarah feigned. "I like my flarn well-cooked and well-spiced. And NO spoo!"

Banak laughed in appreciation. "You are like my denn'bok instructor, Maran. He, too, liked his flarn cooked in the South Mountain style. He detested out-worlder dishes; like the Spoo that the Centauri introduced to us. Though, before he took the long-walk, he learned to like something Human, he called 'Svedish meatballs'. He claimed it was what gave you, Humans, your fighting courage."

Sarah perked her ears at those two bits of "stray' information. So, this youngster had been trained by one of the great old denn'bok masters? And that Maran knew enough about Humans to enjoy Swedish Meatballs? Banak might not be the apparent easy mark she had first assumed. She would need to check-sum him. She asked him, "You said that Maran took the long walk?"

"To the sea." Banak said, as he walked alongside the Human Captain. Sarah noticed that he towered over her by a third of a meter, which made Banak a tall Minbari. Of course, she was a short, for a female, Human.

With her mind putting pieces of a very fragmented and gap-filled jigsaw puzzle together about Banak, Captain Lockhart asked the Minbari, "Why did Maran walk into the ocean?"

Banak stopped in front of what was obviously a Minbari version of a Cafe and he said, "You, Humans, broke his spirit." he said, sadly. Then Banak pointed to a table and said, "You do not mind; if a friend joins us?"

Sarah, who was already playing the chess-game as fast as any Bone-head could play Jalapabtik, a sort of arcane Minbari version of Chinese-checkers, raised her slanted-eyebrows in no-surprise, as she saw that the third party, waiting for them was Lokay.

"She walked forward with a more realistic and new apparent revealed purpose toward the Minbari Religious Caste. Banak walked in echelon starboard on her five o'clock, relative. ('Smartof him.' Sarah thought, 'Banak must have seen me walkabout enough, to know that I kick off my left foot, so he positions himself out-of-that-arc. I better start practicing to kick off the braced right leg then.') While Sarah thought this, she asked, Lokay, who rose from his kneeling position to greet her, "Why did you not tell me you were Anla-Shok?"

"You were Over-watched and we needed to be sure we could talk to you, where we were certain that those who monitored you, knew you were safe; but where they would not be able to hear us speak." explained Lokay.

Confirmation was that silly easy.

Sarah accepted that Minbari lie for the moment. But she did not disabuse Lokay of his illusions about her, either. Let him believe what he would. There were things, HUMAN about her, that not even a trained Minbari telepath could uncover.

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Not Everything Named Pi is 3.1416

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In the Quartermaster's Compartment of ANV Stauffenberg

Pi, Lee looked at the Amiga in distaste. He file-copied the necessary cover files to Stauffenberg's Earth Alliance Computer Operating System (EACOS.). That done, Lee looked at the true contents of the Amiga. 'DAMN THE ANI FOR TAKING THIS RISK', Pi thought. "We have better means to achieve our ends."

Another stupid ANI information drop? The last one that Lee had studied, had been about the Hyach betraying the Human Genome to the Zenner. Look at what had come of that panic brief? Nothing!

This one was Corianna Six? What the hell was this trash?

To Pi, Lee's trained-eye; it seemed like the League of Non-Aligned Worlds, and a chunk of the old Earth Alliance military had volunteered for Vorlon target practice. A bunch of the other super-race clowns, the Shadows, had crashed the party. So it was a repetition of the Battle of the Line? No surprise to Lee, the ^plucked chicken^ White Stars that showed up, were to him, those obvious Minbari ringers. He had expected those bastards to pull a fast; one despite the shifty-eyed promises of their Human-installed Seitai; Entil-Zha Delenn. What surprised Lee, was that those buzzard-profiled ships went in, together, with their former Earth Alliance enemy's ships, against the super-clowns. That, frankly. shocked him. He noticed that the Bone-heads hung aloof from aiding any other aliens; when THEY went in to attack the First Ones.

Pi watched the ^victory^ play out, with no clear indication that anybody involved had won anything, except a rubble-ring around CORIANNA where its moon used to be. The Coriannese would have a lot of stoney silicates, to use as impromptu gun-satellites, should the bronze-age denizens of that world ever decide that an AEGIS grid might be useful. Nobody came into the presentation to explain the 'miraculous ALLIANCE victory'. What Pi, Lee took away from the idiotic ANI presentation, was the mere fact that super-race clowns, 'the Shadows', froze everybody, including the few First Ones, who had showed up as a referee section. (Those Five Kibitzers, in the peanut gallery, DID blast the Vorlon Planet Killer; that scragged the moon, BILATHIS. That was not quite Vorlon-kosher to rubble-ring the moon, so the Five Kibitzers threw their delay-of-game flag. POOF-no more Vorlon PK.' Pi, Lee supposed, that was a probable good thing.), with some chrysalis-contraption that unfolded itself like an enormous origami snowflake. Those nice large fire-blossoming 'missiles', that the snowflake fired into the mass of paralyzed ships earned Pi, Lee's awed recognition of purpose. Lee respected and feared such power. He did not so honor the useless idiots who sent this one-time-erase message to him. What purpose could such a risk to revealing his cover serve? Truly, today's incompetent Alliance Naval Intelligence were not the more efficient Earth Force Naval Intlligene of old!

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He Talked Them Into Leaving?

Aboard the Minbari Station orbiting SHINAR

Sarah Lockhart sat alone in her sleeping quarters, kneeling on the floor, unrolling her bedroll. Like any sensible daughter of TELLUS; (EARTH's 'official political name' within the ALLIANCE), she preferred to sleep flat on the deck, instead of being propped up like some stupid rifle in an armory. WHY did the Bone-heads have to build everything tilted to the horizontal plane?

Lokay and Banak, these days, seemed pleased with themselves. Sarah supposed that recruiting an ALLIANCE Captain into the web of Anla Shok contacts and operatives was supposed to be to them; some kind of 'moral' victory over the ALLIANCE.

She contacted her own Overwatch. They did not seem too alarmed about events. Actually, they were amused.

She talked to the Overwatch, now, as she made her sleep preparations. Supposedly, this would be the time of consciousness, when the Minbari telepaths would be most likely to try to read her, as it was the time when the native Human privacy guards were most vulnerable. All to true in practice. but; Humans were not that stupid. As the Minbari were about to discover to their cost; yet again.

'Why did Sinclair fail?' she asked the current Monitor, Monitor Number Three.

'I do not know.' Monitor Three thought to her. The Monitor asked her own question in retort, 'Why do you ask?'

Sarah replied, as she lay down in her bedroll and pulled the sock-cover over her, 'It just seems from all these history lessons that Lokay shows me; that he prepares me mentally to play some role in an Anla Shok operation that involves their unfinished business from Sinclair's War or possibly Sheridan's.'

Monitor Three, with her own privacy wall in place, thought about that comment for a few seconds; as Sarah rustled herself inside her bag to a more comfortable position, ostentatiously for the benefit of the Minbari spy cameras placed in her quarters.

Monitor Three, then, said, 'Should I warn the MINBARI OVERWATCH?'

Sarah gave vent to her own private mental laugh. 'You do not seriously think this farce arises to that threat level, do you?' she scornfully thought at Monitor Three.

Monitor Three mentally shrugged, 'Perhaps not. I would suggest, though, that a small demonstration of capability; to remind the Minbari-especially the Anla Shok-of our deterrent is needed at this moment.'

Sarah disagreed. "The deterrent works best, as it is. This is not the time to beat our gorilla-chest. Besides, I am just an ALLIANCE Captain. It should take somebody with the Pro-Consul's authority, to make that kind of deadly request. Especially; if the request is based on this kind of flimsy evidence. I mean, do you believe that a Warrant will be Senate issued, just because somebody tried to recruit me to work for the Anla Shok?

Monitor Three joined Sarah in silent laughter. Then she, Three, became serious, "I think I know why your two new Anla-Shok 'friends' have sought you out, and why they chose you in particular.

Monitor Three showed Sarah Lockhart the same orders that the ANI had sent Commander Mudabis.

It took Sarah about two minutes to read and digest the documents, as Monitor Three held the pages up before her closed eyes. She shuffled down into a fair approximation of REM sleep.

Sarah's reaction was almost the same as her Narn Pilot/Helmsman, T'Kann's, two weeks previously had been, 'Bastards!' she thought. But it was not the Naval General Staff, she so labelled. And it was not confined to just Lokay and the Drakh; in her new furiously-computed situation estimates.

'We have been betrayed.' she thought bitterly, mostly to herself.

'So, it would appear.' agreed Monitor Three. 'What do you suppose the next step in the chain of treachery is?

'What else?' thought Sarah bitterly at Monitor Three. 'Get me on a White Star to meet the ANV Stauffenberg at TARELLEN. Its the only thing they have, with the range and the Hyper-space transit capability to catch a PATRIOT. And, of course, I will have to bring my new 'FRIENDS' along.

Monitor Three nodded in sympathy inside Sarah's mind's eyes, 'Just remember, that these operators have cast you in the role of Laocoon, Sarah.'

Sarah as she rolled over onto her side, putting her back to the main Minbari spy-scanner, said; 'I know that fact, Three. But, unlike Laocoon or Cassandra, I know how to handle this Trojan horse. They will pay. I may not be able to stop them; in time, but they will PAY!'

Monitor Three, admonished her charge, 'Calm yourself, Sarah!' The Monitor looked around inside Sarah, using the sleeping woman's considerable senses to check externally for possible Minbari detection of how upset the ALLIANCE Captain truly was.

Sarah rebuked her. 'I checked myself, Three. For all the poor fools know, I am having that nightmare. I do have those dreams, you know.'

Monitor Three having satisfied herself; said, 'Battle of the Line syndrome?'

'It is a good cover for what truly ails me.' Sarah said simply. ('Odd that you would think of your, condition, in that way.' Sarah thought to her private-self.)

Sarah, stretched catlike, and rolled to face the Minbari monitor. She did not fear it, or them. Children trying to play catchup in an adults' galaxy, the Bone-Heads were clearly not the party of treachery here. She said so.

And explained why.

Monitor Three after the explanation, in puzzlement, asked Sarah again, 'Why did you ask me; if Sinclair failed?'

Sarah said to her, 'I am not really sure. I suppose it is tied in with how Sheridan talked all the FOs, into leaving us alone; after CORIANNA SIX? Lokay seemed to make a big point of linkage; that part in with the history of Sinclair's War: as if the mighty SHERIDAN had, somehow, succeeded; where Jeffrey Sinclair failed. I never bought into that hypothesis; when I was with the NGS, and we war-gamed that outcome post-action, based on what we knew then. I am certain that hypothesis is refuted with what I know, NOW. It was too dependent on a miraculous successful time-loop and a convenient BABYLON 4 appearing, at just the proper moment. It, also, always, depended on Sinclair being able to take a half-savage semi-evolved species of religious nut-jobs; and impose military and political discipline upon them. In all of Minbari history, before, Three, had the Minbari ever showed the determination to set up a proper STAFF? Yet, here comes the blessed Valen to them, and VOILA! He becomes Muhammad, Horatio Nelson, and the Elder Moltke all rolled up into one genius-Minbari Napoleon? Pfui! I knew Jeffrey Sinclair, personally! At best, he was a mediocre fighter-group commander. Something was always rotten back, then about him, that situation and now...'

Monitor Three objected, 'But, Sheridan?'

'Is probably our most formidable combat leader, next to Susan Ivanova.' thought Captain Sarah Lockhart at miffed Three. This was a matter of her core professional judgment. Sarah was not about to allow Monitor Three to challenge her on this matter of her expertise. Three was not qualified. 'But I do not know... I suspect...'

Monitor Three appeared to not believe her.

'He may have gotten the FO's to leave, or he may have not.' Sarah thought to Monitor Three. 'But it is very clear to me, that someone much smarter than the Minbari, militarily and politically , are setting poor Humanity up for the hard fall, again. Otherwise, why would NGS put up WARPLAN GREEN's tripwire and now activate it? We are not that stupid!' Sarah mentally emphasized, reminding Monitor Three, that though she was a fighting Captain of the ALLIANCE, Sarah was also a member of the Naval General Staff.

Three suggested; 'Drakh?'

'They are dumber than the plains scavenger baboon equivalents, from which the Shadows built them.' thought Sarah in derision. 'I have a hypothesis, Three. What staff officer does not, when she finds herself in this kind of maze? But to confirm it? I need to follow the evidence chain to confirm or refute it.'

'So, you will be taking that White Star, Lokay will probably offer?' asked Monitor Three.

'Oh most assuredly.' answered an angry Sarah Lockhart, not meaning it the way Three probably understood it

'Be careful, Sarah!' Three said in concern. 'We do have a range limit.'

Sarah, touched by this concern shown by her Overwatch Monitor, told Monitor Three, 'It cannot be helped. Now let me go rest. I need to sleep. There is much to do, and this may be my last chance to rest before...'

Monitor Three withdrew from Sarah, leaving behind the implanted sleep command, that allowed her charge to sleep in quiet peace.

As for the Minbari watchers, the Grey Council set to spy upon the ALLIANCE conferees? Those assigned to Sarah Lockhart told their masters that she slept early through a nightmare, as was customary among the Humans of her kind, those few who had survived the Minbari and Shadow Wars. Also true of her kind , they reported that she slept the slept the sleep of desperate exhaustion. It was a common Human fear-sleep cycle. Nothing seemed abnormal. ANI operatives who watched the Minbari watchers (Never mind how; the Minbari did not notice, so why should we?), observed that the Minbari spies missed a couple of cues, that showed the ANI agents, that Captain Lockhart was working her mind at an elevated strained level to the point of desperation. A simple heat measurement off of her body, if the Bone-heads had only thought to look for it, would have revealed that fact.

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Movement in Time.

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TARELLEN; The ANV Stauffenberg COMMAND and CONTROL

Mudabis strapped himself into his chair. The PATRIOT was under acceleration. Normally he could count on that "push' to pin him to his seat; but any sudden pivot or shift in axis or kinetic collision could fling him from his perch to splat upon some obsidian armored bulkhead.

The Analog came up, and as usual; the three hundred sixty degree view of views presented Mudabis with its human advantages and Vregan disadvantages. Mudabis, aboard his Xork, had made do with waterfall displays. But then, he only had to navigate through jump-points and land troops upon planets and bases. This was cruelly different. Actually seeing the enemy, and pointing at him in the Analog, and telling the crew in the compressed Alliance Battle Language; "Shoot him!" That was now his job, Mudabis realized. This Human approach did not seem too high technology, compared to his own Vree experience, Mudabis thought, but appearances were most deceptive. He had tried a few simple gunnery drills with the ANV Stauffenberg at DRALA TOTH and seen just how miserably the ANV Stauffenberg had performed. He could not coordinate Belios', T'Kann's and Unealas' actions, together, with the easy ease that Captain Lockhart seemed to ooze. It took four attack runs on the comet, before the ANV Stauffenberg's Earth Alliance Computer Operating System published a gunnery result that was status; 'marginal'. Even at that, chunks of the snowball survived the graze shots to bounce off, and produce lightning on the PATRIOT's armor. Mudabis, unhappy with the situation, noted that at the end, at least they HIT the damned thing. On the few tries, he had attempted, in the past, when Lockhart was present to provide him tutelage, he mishandled the ship so badly, that she, Captain Lockhart, intervened to prevent collisions and possible damage. He was improving somewhat, was he not?. That must show some progress?

"What's the status on our rendezvous?" he signed. calmly. In a war-saucer, the Vree sat facing each other in a circle, so you could see other people across from you speaking to you. 'Not on a Human warship, was that so', thought Mudabis. 'Here, everybody is either in front, or behind you. which made for lots of unnecessary head twisting. The Humans coped well enough with the problems that a Vree commander might cause in the case of communications. The Humans used an AMSIL hand-sign-to-spoken-word translator; (A Do-it-all), that they incorporated into the wristwatches they all wore. But the problem for Mudabis was, 'How do you talk to the other ALLIANCE idiots who did not foresee this problem'? As a result, Mudabis had to suffer through time delays, while a clumsy Brakiri phrase-translator-device told Belios in Rep-Sha Gangster Speech, what he had just said to the Doit-all that Belios wore around his left wrist.

'The ANV Stauffenberg needs a Signaleer desperately.' thought Mudabis. 'Human Hell! She needs her Captain!'

T'Kann must have seen the Brakiri's total failure in this collapsing situation, for he intervened quickly. He, from his station, poked his fingers into the air, and a projected merge trace for two moving objects appeared in the Teledyne. One of the objects was the plot trace for the ANV Stauffenberg. A clock, displaying Human numbers, also, appeared. This T'Kann read. The Narn, thankfully, knew AMSIL He signed, "Twenty minutes before our guests are late. We arrive on station in twelve. T'Kann turned to face Mudabis, "Do you want fighters out, Sir?" he asked, signing slowly, so he could be clearly understood across the distance of the C&C.. Mudabis, in not-Vree fashion, emphatically shook his head 'No', as a Human would. The Vree head shake for 'no', was too like the Human one for yes. Mudabis wanted to commit no errors in this delicate situation.

Mudabis decided that he would work through T'Kann. He signed to the Narn to come to the Captain's station.

T'Kann signed, "You want me to quit my post, Sir?"

Mudabis told him, signing quickly, "I need your voice to speak for me to the crew. Get your senior-chief to relieve you at your post. I need you here." Mudabis pointed to the chair adjacent to his starboard; where he wanted T'kann to sit.

"Hurry." signed Mudabis. "Time presses us."

As T'Kann took his seat on Mudabis' right side, the Vregan signed, "Let us not have a Jankowski, shall we? Set Ship's Condition at Five. Under no circumstances do I want us bore-sighting weapons, scanning, creating any innocuous energy discharges, or even providing Talk Within Ship or Talk Between Ships chatter to give the false impression, that we are here to fight. Those idiots with whom we rendezvous are Minbari. Stay 'CALM' is the watchword this day!"

Matthew Keffer's hologram windowed in on the Analog from where he was in the ANV Stauffenberg's port-side-dorsal hanger OPERATIONS compartment. He said, as T'Kann broadcast Mudabis' words over the TWS, "You are expecting a lot from those cretins." he snarled to no one in particular. The angry Human was as securely tightly strapped into place as anyone else on the PATRIOT.

Mudabis reflected on that. Lockhart liked to keep a standard heavy acceleration of at least the fifteen meters a second/second. It was tough on everybody, but as Mudabis sourly observed, it kept everybody fit-mentally and physically. Lockhart called it 'momentum discipline'. You had to be quick alert to avoid falling on Lockhart's ship. A fall in one-and-three-quarters the normal pull of your own home world's acceleration field, taught that lesson to you painfully. Mudabis only needed to make that mistake, once. It was just how Lockhart taught you to think. She thought a little pain did wonders to the incentive-challenged learners in this universe.

Mudabis poked his finger into the air and used the Analog's Interface to call up an image of a White Star. He looked at it, and moved it by waving his hand and shepherding it over to where T'Kann could see it.

"Not much, is it?" signed Mudabis

T'Kann signed back, "A warship less than a fifth of our length? True, it uses a Quantium Forty gravidic-lens vortex-initiator, but consider what else is involved in that little beast? It has gravidic engines that allow it to maneuver at two thousand meters per second/second even when it is at a radian thirty light seconds distant from a class II mass-node. Add a spinal molecular-slicer that is as powerful, as any you find on a SHARLIN. No. it is not very much at all, is it?"

Mudabis was satisfied. At least one other sapient aboard the ANV Stauffenberg understood the mortal danger in which the PATRIOT found herself.

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Greetings from the Wrong Side of the Equation

Unlike most aliens that moved among Minbari artefacts, Lockhart, the Human, had the skills to appreciate what she saw in this White Star. She was given a free tour of the ship by Banak; who with great pride showed her into every nook-and-cranny that was easily accessible to a couple of their miss-matched size. Curious Minbari stared at them. Sarah ignored the ignorant stares. If these were Anla Shok, had they not ever seen an ALLIANCE officer in uniform before?

Banak, on one occasion, as the two of them were about to enter the starboard gravidic-keel array, stopped an irate Captain Lockhart as she was about to do something useful about and toward a too-long staring Minbari.

"Pardon him, Captain. He's a northerner from the islands around Tyranethu. No manners in him. I inform you. He misbehaves from his curiosity more than from his obvious lack of social grace." Banak barked sharply at the thin puzzled Minbari in an Islander Worker Caste dialect. "Begone lack-wit! Lest I turn this Human loose upon you!"

Sarah, who translated all of this with great difficulty, She knew some of the Western Coastal Southerner dialect, spoken by many Minbari Worker Caste who were fishers and shore-laborers. This sub-dialect was tangentially similar. She thought she heard the the bug-eyed Minbari northerner say,"But she's ochre-skinned and so tiny! Like a Meltki" By this, which, Sarah assumed the goggle-eyed Minbari was comparing her to a MINBAR version of a Terran lemur; substituting in this case, the cat-eyed Meltki orbs for the bulbous ones in the EARTH animal.

The two Minbari argued for a good thirty seconds back and forth about whether she was the orange or yellow-skinned variety of Meltki, and whether the northerner should leave or else, until Sarah cleared her throat.

Banak understood that signal. He took the recalcitrant Minbari by the arm and hustled him down the too-curved passageway, conducting an urgent conversation in a harsh whisper as he bent to the fellow's ear. Sarah heard the Star-Rider phrase for 'Trigati Disaster'. She distinctly heard Banak ask his compatriot in Star Rider Warrior Caste tongue, as they turned the corner, "Do you want to bring another 'Jankowski' down upon us, you fool?"

Sarah silently chuckled at that one. 'Jankowski', if nothing else, had made his foolish name most famous among everybody, who had ever heard of the Human/Minbari War as the common identifier exemplar of HOW NOT TO establish a peaceful first contact between two sapient species, who were ignorant of one another.

Other Minbari poked their heads into the passage-way to see what the noise source was. Sarah just leaned back lithely, cat-like against the frame of the passageway. She gave them her best Human-feline grin. All fangs. The smart curious suddenly decided that they had other better places to look. Sarah heard a sharp thud. Obviously; the northerner needed up-against-the-bulkhead counseling.

She waited patiently.

Banak returned rubbing his hands briskly. He pointed toward the compartment where they had intended to enter, before Mister Goggle-eyes had interrupted the proceedings.

Banak began to apologize again. This convinced Sarah, to go into Step Two.

She said, "Look Banak of the Fourth Order of the Star-Riders' Clan. Do not apologize, when you are in the right. It is a sign of weakness. And the next time you hit somebody, throw from the leg, not the shoulder. And keep your hands, thus." Sarah darted a body punch at a panel in the frame, against which she previously leaned. The strike made a solid explosive CRACK sound. She left a good hand-sized dent in the compartment panel. She then showed Banak her hand. "Not even a bruise. See?"

Banak folded his sore hands together and nodded in Star-Rider salute fashion to a Master of Arms.

Sarah returned the Minbari salute, in the Human fashion, with a lazy hand wave.  She gestured Banak to move toward the compartment. She said to him, "Now, let us have a look at this gravity-keel you wanted to show me."

Banak opened the oval door (You could not call a thing, that flimsy, a hatch, plus the Minbari had no word for 'hatch'.), to the compartment and showed Captain Lockhart inside.

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Orders

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Captain Lockhart's Work Compartment Aboard the ANV Stauffenberg

As T'Kann had predicted, the White Star was twenty minutes late. The plucked-chicken hove to at one-tenth of a light second from the Stauffenberg at rest relative to the PATRIOT. Mudabis received this information by Analog repeaters in the Captain's Working Compartment. He busied himself, eating out of Lockhart's private fruit stocks, that she kept on hand as a sort of combat ration that she used, when she could not go to the common mess for food, when she had to stand the fore-and-afts: that is entire watch rotations because her list of watch officers were still too green to handle any, but the most routine of evolutions. It was while she was mentoring Mudabis during his class segment of her fore-and-aft cyckle (a Forenoon he remembered), that he discovered the Human Captain's mono-maniacal addiction to fruit. Oranges. She loved oranges. She would leave orange peels all over the C&C. It drove a neat-freak, like Mudabis, the Vree, nuts.

Now that he was acting Captain, he peeled an orange and found to his shock and horror that he left the peels floating in a loose constellation above Captain Lockhart's desk. He hastily scraped the orange peels together. He put them into the garbage bag and zipped the bag shut before any of the peels escaped. As he looked at himself in the reflective obsidian armor that formed the frames, overhead and deck of the compartment, the little Grey thought of how absurd his situation was. He was worried about leaving orange peels floating about in Lockhart's office, when in the next half-hour he could be dead?

Ah well. He finished his (Lockhart's.), orange and turned to the task at hand. The White Star, after it halted its forward momentum had broadcast, in standard ISANGS format, a rather short missive.The blundering Abbai signals chief, after he translated it out of encryption into something a Vregan could halfway decipher, sent the message via the same Drazi yeoman that Mudabis still couldn't identify by name. Why the ALLIANCE did not do something sensible like have the name-tags sewn on the uniforms, escaped Mudabis. Of course, again, why would anybody, sane, adopt NARN military uniforms as the ALLIANCE standard was also beyond him.

Mudabis dismissed the Drazi yeoman, who took his message book and floated out of the compartment. The Drazi was unusually graceful for a Snake-head, the Vregan noticed. Mudabis shook his head to clear it of distraction.'

He read the halfway grammatically mangled NGS fragmentation order.

'Utmost cooperation with the Anla Shok in your current mission is essential. White Star Sixty-two will accompany you. Therefore, you will coordinate all necessary aid and sustenance to it, as a posted member of TG 60.2 ANV Stauffenberg(PVBG) in keeping with your previous instructions. For purposes of these instructions you are to consider White Star Sixty-two as close-escort to TG 60.2 ANV Stauffenberg(PVBG).'

The Humans, who seemed to have a word to describe everything unpleasant, would call this piece of utter Narn-crazy nonsense; 'body excreted waste'. Mudabis bowed his head. 'What in the Human Hells was an Anla Shok?'

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Differences of Opinion.

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In Captain Lockhart's Quartets; White Star Sixty-two.

She was slurping on some rather bland pastry, akin to a feeble Minbari attempt at noodles when Banak entered her compartment unannounced. He bowed slightly, as he caught her awkwardly kneeling somewhat in front of her low-tabled meal with a noodle hanging out of her mouth in mid-slurp.

He said, laconically, in Star-Rider, "They have arrived Captain." He watched her finish her noodle slurp. Then he waited while she unfolded from her kneeling position in a jackknife movement that reminded the Minbari that there was immense power driven by a fierce will encased in that tiny being. He patiently awaited her to stand.

"Are we going to the bridge of this White Star at last, or am I doomed to wander on another tour of the hyper-mass power-plant?" Captain Lockhart joked at Banak.

"Why do you, Humans, call it a hyper-mass, when everybody else in the known universe calls it a singularity? asked Banak.

Sarah thought about the long bitter struggle, ahead of Humanity, precisely because most of the sapiens in this corner of space were totally ignorant of the difference; between their all too common current delusions, and the painful-to-be-reconciled-at-the-infinities uncertain mathematical truth?

She decided to try. "You cannot call something a singularity; if it possesses, interval, superposition duality and asymtotic asymmetry." she said. Banak stared at her without comprehension of the contradictions inherent. 

Banak still stared at her as if he expected to be fed four centuries of Human hypermass physics observations.

"Ah, to Hell with it." She grabbed Banak's arm and led him out of her compartment into the central White Star passageway. (Poor design that was, Sarah thought. You should stagger your pressure locks so that you do not lose a whole section to a line-shot blow-out.) She instinctively knew where the foolish Bone-heads would put their COMMAND and CONTROL on this plucked-chicken.

She dragged her Star-Rider bodyguard down the passageway. She headed straight for the bridge singing. "We are off to see the wizard; the wonderful wizard of Oz!" ...

... Onto the bridge they burst. Lockhart had stopped prudently singing, about a third of the remaining distance to walk. She marched into the compartment with Banak echeloned on her starboard aft-quarter, where one of her own Stauffenberg Marines would be, if she had one with her.

Sarah looked for the Captain. She had not met him yet. Come to think of it, Lokay had suddenly made himself kind of  scarce aboard this ship as well. She stole a quick glance at Banak, and reached out with all her senses. Just double-checking her assessment. Her Diogenes gear was still operational. She had found her one honest Minbari. Now to deal with these swine, present.

The Captain of the White Star spun around in his throne of a chair to face Sarah.

He would be Human, of course. And he would be Ethan Martlet.

Captain Sarah Lockhart stood silently, expecting something. Martlet stood up from his chair and walked toward her counterclockwise around the rail that separated his position of authority from the rest of the C&C crew. He came to Sarah and with his arms outstretched sought to embrace her.

He said, "Sarah!"

Lockhart stood still in silence. Her cold look of rebuke stopped Ethan in mid-stride. He dropped his hands to his sides and said, "Well. May I invite you onto my bridge, Captain..."

"... Lockhart of the Alliance Naval Vessel Stauffenberg." she finished for him.

Martlet gave her the pro-forma bow, that Human courtesy and social grace formally demanded.

"Well; I see that you survived your little role in ENDGAME." he said, referring only to Captain John Sheridan's complex evolution that de-throned William Morgan Clark.

"And I see, you have joined the Anla Shok, since last we served together." Sarah Lockhart said neutrally.

Most of the Minbari did not understand the frost, generated between the two Humans, that reduced the entire compartment's temperature to just a degree above that of the outside vacuum.

Only Banak, of the Fourth order of the Star-Riders' Clan, as he saw the two Human Captains face each other: realized immediately, that one of the two Humans, would kill the other.

He suddenly feared for his charge's life.

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The Area of the Circle = Pi(R^2)

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In Pi, Lee's quarters Aboard The ANV Stauffenberg.

Lee sat with his eyes closed in silent meditation, or so it seemed. He actually was not so much meditating, as looking through the eyes of a totally un-aware Narn.

So what did the Quartermaster Chief of the ANV Stauffenberg see? He saw the C&C Analog as the Narn saw it. He recognized the oncoming dot as the vessel, which Mudabis had warned the crew over the TWS that the ANV Stauffenberg would meet here.

The Analog showed a splotch of space, within rested the dimly illuminated ship. Now that Pi, Lee could see a White Star at rest, the un-mistakable plucked-chicken could not disguise its Minbari lines. Pi, Lee had carefully followed the antics of the rendezvousing ship as it came to its rest. Half of an enemy's secrets lay in its shown movements. Lee knew that, Human ships, being poor in a turning fight, tended to come straight at you; or so Humanity would have you believe. The Minbari, for their part, with their ponderous SHARLINS should have been tactically similar after they jumped in, but they liked to turn a lot.

The 'cast of heroes', aboard that Minbari-built illegality, were of this mind-set. They exited their jump-point as a distant dot, snap-turned on the base-line vector, as a gravidic ship could when near enough to a nearby mass-node, when they could use their 'keels' in such a fashion. They raced to the later than expected meet-merge with the ANV Stauffenberg. As the scalar bars in the Analog indicated, the White Star had an acceleration profile at least twice that of the PATRIOT. Definitely; you would want to fight the White Star in flat space!

The surprises kept coming. Pi, Lee shifted his point of view. (Funny. Trying to tune into a new remote viewpoint was so much like trying to find the correct frequency trap line of on a balky Ansible). He finally found the Brakiri. Lee settled down inside that disordered mind and looked out. The Brakiri opened communications via com-laser between the two vessels. Once two-way link was established, Lee expected to see some Bone-head at the other end. Instead, some Human dressed like a Minbari Religious-Caste with Warrior-Caste delusions, appeared en-camera. The Human rattled off some gibberish that Lee did not recognize. Pi supposed that it was Religious Caste dialect. Pi,Lee heard the Narn, T'Kann, say, "It is all Gaim to me!" Pi understood that to be a joke-like "Its Greek to me!", used to be among the ancient Romans.

Pi wore a quizzical look on his face, reflected back at him from the armor, that was akin to the reflected image, that he saw through the Brakiri's eyes, of the confusion that the Brakiri wore on his own face; reflected back at him from the glare-washed polished C&C obsidian colored armor paneling.

One thing, Pi could not control, was the decisions his viewpoints would make as they looked around. The Brakiri turned his head to look backwards over his left shoulder. He aimed his field-of-view back toward the Goblin that was the Acting Captain. Pi was not too happy about that fact. He did not like Vree, in general. He could barely stand them. This Vregan, Mudabis, noticed the Brakiri looking at him and gave the Brakiri, what Pi instantly labelled his 'stupid look number six'. which Lee loosely translated as 'Where did you come from, you idiot?'. Anyway, the Brakiri turned back toward the strangely-dressed Human. Now, he, that human at the other end of the link, was surrounded by Bone-heads. As Lee watched through the Brakiri; he, Lee, concluded that this was the White Star's C&C team. They appeared to be comfortably more in command of their ship, than Mudabis' mismatched coterie of Grimaldi white-faces were, of the ANV Stauffenberg.. Pi judged that the Human ('What rank was he?', Pi wondered.), must have been in a responsible  position a reasonably long time for this Minbari group appeared to move in an easy unity fluidity around him. It was not anything like the forced jerkiness, that even Captain Lockhart had to endure, when she led the ANV Stauffenberg. The Human of the White Star (With a shock, Lee realized that he identified the man as the White Star's Captain. When did that happen?) stopped his speaking gibberish and waited. He stared across the tenth of a light second delay in expectation. He, the Human, shrugged his shoulders as the Brakiri saw it. The Human tried Narn. Lee understood Narn, but not this mangled dialect. Suddenly the Narn, T'Kann, came into the Brakiri view bodily and fiddled with the controls at the Brakiri's station as Lee saw it through the Brakiri's eyes. The Narn said in passable Human English, "Let  us try standard English, between us, shall we?"

"Fine" said the Human in the image. "Let me introduce myself. My name is Captain Ethan Martlet of the White Star Number Sixty-two. Assigned to the Fourth Squadron.

T'Kann obviously irritated by something, said, "You may call me 'Talon Leader Third'; T'Kann of the Fifth Circle." One Minbari, as Pi,Lee saw through the Brakiri's eyes, pointed through the image to what Lee computed as the probable position of Mudabis, the Goblin. The Minbari turned to the Human in the image and gave the 'Captain Ethan Martlet', the Bone-head sign for crazy-person. The Minbari, probably thinking that no Human ship would have anybody aboard that understood southern continent Religious Caste Ch'Domo Dialect; said to the Human, Martlet, "Be careful. Their ship is much bigger than ours." Martlet waved that Minbari off in annoyance, with a comment that was something to the effect, "I can handle those idiots. Do you not have something to which you must attend?"

The Minbari went out of image. Suddenly the assembled White Star C&C group turned their attention from what was in front of them in the image to what was behind them.

Lee tried to see what caused the commotion, but he was restricted by the crappy Brakiri physiology of the viewpoint he was using. So, he had to wait until the Minbari imager moved to re-center itself, solidly, on the White Star Human Captain; so that its pickups could hear and see what Captain said and did..

Pi, Lee finally saw and heard a garbled version of the meeting between Captain Ethan Martlet and Captain Sarah Lockhart.

And that buoyed his personal morale immensely. Whatever her personal shortcomings in her command style and in her ability to mold this PATRIOT's crew into a unit to this point; one thing Pi, Lee knew about Captain Sarah Lockhart. If it came down to any fight with that Bone-head-filled chicken-plucked treaty-breacher and his "Human Captain"; Captain Lockhart would win that match. She was that GOOD at her job.

And she was now in range for Monitor Six, Pi, Lee, to directly reach her.

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Collecting Our Own

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MAIN OPERATIONS; ANV Stauffenberg Flight Deck

What a mess.

Matthew Keffer ran dummy patrols and drills throughout the flight group. His orders from Mudabis were explicit on this point. He could send Furies out and in. Local ship locus defense sorties he could run; but he could not have any of his fighters buzz the White Star. As Mudabis signed to him, "No harassment. You can let them know that we are out and prowling, but I will not give them any excuse."

'Excuse?' Keffer thought. 'These are MINBARI!'

Unealas, that crazy Drazi, got permission to bore-sight his Polarizer on the White Star, and he could not send a single Fury on a flyby?

What kind of insanity was this?

Mudabis had shrugged Vregan fashion; when Keffer pointed the major incongruity out.

"The Bone-Heads do not perceive the Polarizer as a threat-no open gun-ports to indicate a weapon; just a large-pronged crude jump-point vortex initiator, is what they see, as far as they are concerned. But the Minbari know what a 'Fury' is; and what it can do. Even to them. So; no provocation, Mister Keffer. Until we get our Captain back, we give them no reason to distrust us."the Vregan signed.

Get the Captain back. That was Keffer's current mission; to personally pilot a Vulture over to that White Star and pick up Stauffenberg(Actual).

That prompted the next question. "Why should we go over there? Why should they not send her over to us on a Flyer?" Keffer had asked.

But then Mudabis pointed out the obvious in countersign, "Bomb. Better to give the present, than to receive."

This was what occupied Matthew Keffer's time now. He, currently, supervised the deck-crew installing the proposed bomb aboard the candidate obsolete Vulture. Keffer was not too sure that this was a good Vree idea...

<In transit between ships>

... The museum relic of an Earth Force shuttle spewed plasma, as it doddled over to the White Star. The new ALLIANCE Navy was supposed to be buying Ospreys to replace the Vulture; but for the present the highest spending priority was fighters, landers and breaching pods. Shuttles were dead last on the small-craft shopping lists. So, the century-old Vulture series, of the single-stage-to-orbit shuttle-craft, soldiered on as the standard Human transport carried aboard Human warships. This particular one might have been a factory reject from the Dilgar War. Its hydraulics leaked. It sweated condensation like a horse. You could see little trails of mold and fungus clinging to the exposed wiring. T'Kann, the phlegmatic Narn looked acutely nervous. He kept looking wildly at sources of hissing noise, wondering if the old bird had sprung a leak. Belios, being Brakiri, and used to things Brakiri not working right; patted T'Kann on the head and said, "Relax. Do you see the Humans? Do they look worried?"

Actually, Keffer, piloting, as he peered around, was very worried. This was his best shuttle. It had been stored and pampered in a special launch bay as the Captain's personal gig. He knew that the Vulture, as an item, was a piece of crap, when originally purchased as new equipment. This clunker's service history began with hard use aboard the EAS Helios. It abruptly ended service on the Helios; when that old Nova rammed a SHARLIN in the Minbari War at the Battle of VEGA.

Keffer inherited this Vulture, as part of his ANV Stauffenberg flight group, when the ALLIANCE penny-pinchers grabbed what was in the Earth Force salvage inventory.for 'non-mission-essential' PATRIOT class ship outfitting. Keffer was sure that this Vulture was a rebuild, on top of being a leftover from the exploded EAS Helios.

T'Kann made his way forward toward the flight-deck. He asked Matthew, as he slid into the empty chair, next to him, "Is that supposed to do that?" The worried Narn Ship's Pilot/Helmsman pointed at an analog gauge. The needle wobbled around at fifty percent hydraulic pressure. Keffer looked at it. He said, "That is not right." He tapped the gauge The needle promptly pegged hard over to zero. "There, that is much better!" As the White Star began to fill the canopy windscreen, T'kann watched in astonishment, as Matt Keffer pulled a hammer from its cleverly stanchioned attachment point on the control deck. The Human gave the Vulture auto-pilot a solid whack to disengage it. Then, he took over the Vulture on manual. "Nothing like the good old-fashioned Homo Sapiens engineering." he said confidently, as he smiled at T'Kann. The Vulture started to bronco under Matthew's rather desperate efforts at control. Fortunately, everyone aboard was strapped tightly into place. The loose objects were securely stowed. The only objects, flung around the cabin, was hydraulic fluid from leaks, loose cable ends that jerked apart from their connectors, mildew bits, and moisture leaking off from the fittings. Everyone was sure to have bruises where their harnesses snugged them in.

T'Kann, the Narn, was thankful for a short trip...

<Arrived aboard White Star Sixty-two>

... It was the first time that Matthew Keffer had seen an intact working Minbari ship from the inside. His previous familiarization training on Minbari technology had been on Human-induced wrecks. From the White Star's Hanger to the Bridge; it had been a bitter lesson to Matthew in advanced technology. Like the ANV Stauffenberg, White Star Sixty-two was all power-plant, propulsion, control systems, and guns. Crew space was an afterthought. He was not surprised that the deck-layout was fore-and-aft; instead of ninety degrees stacked to the plane vector of thrust, as the PATRIOT was. The Minbari, after all, had some of the most advanced artificial gravity generating engineering known to anyone. Nevertheless, Matthew was surprised at some of the lunatic engineering choices the Minbari made. Like with their SHARLINS, the Minbari put the White Star's gravity-keel fins and tractor spikes in easily shoot-able locations. Fuel-feeds and power conduits were easily damage-able by any routine internal penetrating hit. They were incompetently-routed for damage control besides: hard to get at; if you needed to repair the systems. But, of course, with the propensity of Minbari power systems to feedback charge damage and blow their ships apart; who needed to design to conduct repairs? Drala Fi anyone? An over-fondness for automation and a lack of system-redundancy and no idiot-proofs, was all to evident in the layout.

Keffer was no expert in naval architecture. But as a Fury pilot; he quickly analyzed a dozen weaknesses, he would exploit, in each compartment as he passed through it. This White Star seemed to have a large crew for such an automated ship. He was shocked at the lack of comprehensive pressure compartmentalization. There were very few airlock pass though bulkheads. The White Star had little to no internal compartmental armor. Keffer was pace-marching with Belios, the Navigator, T'Kann, the Ship's Pilot/Helmsman, and Unealas, the Gunner; following a Minbari guide through yet another ridiculous swooshing doors' set, when He, Matthew Keffer realized they, all, were at their destination.

Captain Ethan Martlet and a Minbari Religious Caste were there to meet The Stauffenberg Party.

The ridiculous door whooshed again and Keffer turned to see the new arrivals. It was Captain Lockhart and the tallest Minbari who Keffer had ever seen.

The three separate groups cautiously merged together; toward the center of the compartment.The group clustered around the slope-surfaced table that dominated the furnishings of the room and sorted themselves around it; for this meet-and-greet. The door swooshed, yet again. and another person entered the room.

-----------------------------------------------

Banak

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In the private White Star quarters of Captain Lockhart

Banak watched the Human, Sarah Lockhart exercise. She acted almost  like a Minbari micro-gravity dancer as she flexed, spun, and kicked. Banak saw her flip through her moves, flicking a Human device she identified to him, as a variable knife, with a careless twist of her hand this way and that.. Somehow she speared or sliced into every sheet of wadded paper he randomly tossed at her: even when he threw the paper behind her as she faced away from him.

She presently stopped. Picking up a cloth laid on her bed, supplied to her by the White Star's courteous crew, she dried off the wetness that covered a Human; when that animal overheated herself. She said, "Give me a couple of minutes to catch my breath, Star-Rider. We will see; if you are any good with that jenn-bok.

Banak said, "No wise Warrior would give you the chance, Captain." Honor required that he give her that much warning, as he moved against her. His staff was already extended and sweeping in an arc to strike at the crown of her head. The strike never landed; for she spun out of the way, and whipped her drying cloth quickly around his, Banak's head, covering his eyes. Before he could rip the offending cloth from his face, she got behind him, knocked his jenn-bok from his grasp, and hurled him clear across the compartment to fetch up hard against the wall. So hard he hit, that he bounced off the wall with a "Grunt."

By the time he recovered from the bounce; she was on him. With his own jenn-bok, she swept his legs out from under him, so that he fell on his back. she spun the fighting pike with a flourish, and punched him in his bellows muscles with the pike's un-poisoned tip.

"Some bodyguard; you will be for me." Sarah said. "Did not Maran ever teach you the first rule of fighting?'

"Maran taught me the Minbari way of the jenn-bok." said Banak with a painful wheeze. With some difficulty he motioned for Captain Lockhart to remove her foot from his throat. "He also taught me the rules of honor. What Human rule do you mean, Captain Lockhart?"

Sarah pulled the tall Minbari up from the deck. As Banak sucked in chestful after chestful of painful air, Sarah spun the heavy jenn-bok, like one would spin a fan. With a flick of the wrist she collapsed it to its small fifteen centimeter cylindrical carrying size. She tossed it to Banak, who caught it, and put it away into his belt where he carried it. He wheezed out, again; "The first Human rule?"

Sarah reached over to the tilt-bed, and picked up her variable knife. She picked up a scrap of wadded paper, and with a lazy arm movement sliced the wad into eight pieces before it fell to the floor. "The first rule is not Human- restricted." she said "And it is quite simple." She added, "Win."

Banak mulled that one over.

He changed the subject with what he hoped was a joke. "Maybe you should be my bodyguard?" he suggested to Captain Lockhart.

"I have been." she said simply.

In surprise, Banak asked, "When?"

"Ever since, we boarded this ship." she answered.

Banak, in concern, went to a piece of paper on the desk near the tilt-bed. He fumbled for a stylus in his belt purse and pulled it forth. He hastily wrote a note and thrust it at Sarah Lockhart, who glanced at the Minbari script, laughed, balled it up and kicked across the compartment directly into the lens of a spy-camera that was concealed in the wall."Of course; we are monitored." she said."That should not be of that much of a concern."

Banak was puzzled. Did not she smell the danger in her reckless attitude? Where was the legendary Human sixth sense? She thought this 'social exchange' was an amusement?

She, then, became serious. "Banak, of the Forth Order, of the Star-Rider Clan. Who are you?'

"I am Banak." he said perplexed.

"Who do you serve?" she asked.

"My people." he answered.

"Who do you trust?" Captain Lockhart asked.

At the moment, Banak thought he trusted no-one, but he blurted out; "You."

Lockhart nodded in satisfaction. "Good. I promise you, Banak of the Fourth Order, that I will never require you to do anything, that will harm the Minbari, as a People; but I will require your first loyalty to the cause that I serve above all others-even before them."

Banak asked her, "Is that the ALLIANCE?"

Sarah gave him the secret Star-Rider Warrior Caste salute, elder-to-junior, and said; "My cause is LIFE."

Banak returned the salute, junior-to-elder, "To that, as a Warrior, I can with good conscience swear: for it is the proper cause of all the righteous; who serve the Light "

Sarah walked over to the Minbari, and touched him lightly in the stomach, where she had jabbed him with the jenn-bok. "That is going to leave a nasty bruise." she said. "When you take up your posting as my Signaleer, you are going to have to draw impact armor to protect that soft belly of yours, from people like me."

"Signaleer?" asked Banak.

"Yes," said Captain Sarah Lockhart. "How else are you going to bodyguard me aboard my own ship; if I do not find you a posting? You can handle simple message traffic can you not?"

Banak thought it over, and said, "I handled the courier traffic for my Clan at TAVALAN"

"Good enough." said Lockhart "You will have ratings to handle the technical details. What I need is someone who can lead them and organize them. And someone upon whom I can rely to do that other, which MUST be done.""

Banak protested, "But I know nothing about the Human way of doing such things!"

"I will teach. You will learn, Mister Banak." she said. "And this is your first lesson. Officers and senior rates are called Mister or Madam, and are answered with the honoric Sir or Madam in the case of the officer, or by their hard-earned rate, as a mark of respect, in the case of an enlisted crew member in the ALLIANCE Navy."

Banak understood this and nodded so.

Sarah looked at him. "You say it, Mister Banak."

Banak tried it on for size. "Yes, Madam?"

Sarah smiled in encouragement. "Very good, Mister Banak!"

A Minbari dressed as Religious Caste of the Clan B'Lante entered unannounced, as was the impolite Minbari way and said, "Banak, of the Star-Riders? Honored guest?" and at this she bowed as slightly as the social decorum among the Minbari required, that you do to a 'guest under your roof', according to their rigid rules of hospitality. Banak noticed that the Human, in his care, studiously avoided taking offense at this deliberate insult to her. He was about to rebuke the Religious Caste acolyte, when he felt a talon grip on his left arm.

It was Captain Lockhart signaling him to restrain himself. Maran, had thus, sought to restrain him when he, Banak, became too angered in a jenn-bok bout to think and act clearly. In Star-Rider dialect, Lockhart looked up at him sternly and asked; "What is the first rule in a fight, Mister Banak?" The Human word 'Mister' sounded odd to Banak, as she spoke it thus to him, as an honorific.

He replied, "Win, Madam" using the same dialect.

Captain Lockhart, then addressed the acolyte (For though the acolyte wore the uniform of an Anla Shok it was obvious she was of the Religious Caste, and so bore herself proudly, as Banak saw her.), in the generic southern continent Religious Caste dialect, "You have a message for us?"

The acolyte gave another per-functionary supercilious bow and said, "Your party from your ship has just arrived. They request to meet with you. Captain Martlet has arranged this in the..." the acolyte struggled for the Human word; for there was no Minbari equivalent to describe this odd (To her.), room, "wardroom?" she finished in a half-question.

"Good." said Sarah in Human English. "It suits me very well to return home."

Sarah looked at Banak. She told him in Star-Rider, "Pack your belongings, Mister Banak. We, if everything goes well, will be moving over to the ANV Stauffenberg. I think you will like it, there. It is a good ship with a happy; if often trouble-plagued crew. Warm. Not like this..." and here the Human shivered, "...cold tub."

Banak said in Star-Rider, "As you direct me, Madam." He left.

As he departed, he heard the heretofore gentle voiced Sarah, utter with steel hard coldness to the acolyte in Religious Caste, "Take this message to your Captain and Master. I meet with him in five minutes. Now, you, remove your presence from me." Banak smiled. That was the correct polite Minbari response to a veiled insult.

Banak went to his quarters. He gathered his few possessions and rolled them up into his sleeping cloak, that was the garment that every Warrior Caste covered himself in when he rested. This wrap he rolled tightly and static-charge sealed into a bundle, as what a Human soldier would have recognized as a bedroll. He tucked this under his right arm, keeping his pike arm free to draw his jenn-bok, if he needed to fight.

As Banak returned to Captain Lockhart's quarters to collect her, he saw to his astonishment that she formally was dressed; as a Star-Rider Elder would dress in the Clan Blacks. She had her own roll tucked under her left arm. When Sarah went for her variable knife it was the right hand that drew the weapon. So Banak would bear echelon to her left, as they walked together, to keep her fighting arcs clear.

He choked back a moment of confused anger. He asked her. "Why?"

Sarah responded, "Why, madam." with a low whisper.

Banak, as they went up the main passage-way to the ^wardroom^ , repeated the question. "Why, madam?"

Sarah said; "When among the Minbari, formally, a Human does not dress like a Narn, Mister Banak."

Banak understood. Status. It explained the ALLIANCE rank insignia that Captain Lockhart wore with the Star-Rider Blacks. Those rank insignia were based on the Earth Alliance rank insignia worn by the Humans during the Minbari/Human War. He had to ask her anyway.

"Why Star-Rider Blacks and why the ISAN tabs, Madam?" he asked.

"To show those vermin on this vessel, who the loyal are, and to remind the disloyal of their inevitable fate, Mister Banak." said Captain Sarah Lockhart coldly. She stopped in front of the wardroom door. (Funny. On a White Star otherwise labelled in Minbari Common Script comma and dot squiggles, this door was labelled in neat English block letters 'WARDROOM'.), She once again grabbed Banak by his right arm this time. The powerful talon grip was as steel-like as ever. She told the tall Minbari as she looked up into his eyes, at him from so far below in his physical stature. "Mister Banak. Keep a firm grip on yourself. We are either going to escape with our lives; or we may perish within the next few moments. I need your word, that you will not lose your composure. Can I count on this from you?"

"Yes, Captain." which was the first time that Banak had used that formulaic response.

"Very well." said Captain Lockhart. "Let us see if that bastard, Martlet, is still what I know he is."

Banak said, "Madam? If Captain Martlet is a betrayer, why would he command a White Star?"

Sarah Lockhart gave a low chuckle, "Why would he not?"

Banak, puzzled, asked, "Is he that dangerous?"

Sarah shook her head 'No'. She said, "No. Mister Banak. Captain Martlet is a tool. He is simply useful to the dangerous. We cannot put it off any longer. Shall we?"

The door whooshed and they entered.

Banak saw Captain Martlet and Lokay at one end of the table moving to the opposite side. He saw a quad of aliens, A battle-scarred Drazi, who face was marred by serious radiation burns, a rather emaciated Brakiri with straggly long hair, a very tough and battle-hardened looking Narn, and a medium-sized Human male, that Banak instantly associated for some strange reason with those who flew Nials. He had that bearing of one who would take his own body into battle against a star itself and believed that somehow that he would make that sun bend to his will. Such men were the ones who piloted singleton fighters.

Sarah motioned Banak forward and she moved to her left going around the table. Banak followed his elder, as always echeloning to her left to keep her fighting arcs clear. He heard the door to the room whoosh open. Banak snapped his head around to see who would enter at this moment.

It was a Vorlon.

-----------------------------------------------

Four Lemons and an Orange.

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In the Wardroom of the White Star Sixty-Two

All the hairs of Sarah Lockhart's skin bristled. at rigid attention. 'They were supposed to be gone.'

She still had expected this betrayal. One side of the chess board lined up neatly in her mind and clicked into immediate place. Her face and body betrayed nothing of her thought.

Keffer muttered, "Oh crap!"

Belios started to wail a Brakiri death dirge.

Sarah Lockhart barked, "Silence!"

Martlet, without a word, approached Lockhart and took her arms Roman fashion.

"Checking me for spring-knives or wrist-guns, Captain?" Sarah asked quietly.

Ethan, just as quietly answered, "Going Nativist, Sarah?"

"That is CAPTAIN Lockhart to you." said Sarah very softly. "At least this explains the reason why you command a White Star, Ethan."

"Its not what you think, Sar... er, Captain." Martlet said. "I am Anla Shok. I know that that is kind of hard to explain... considering... our mutual past... But think of it as a group, where people, like me, receive a second chance. Like the old French Foreign Legion..."

Sarah said simply. "The Foreign Legion took the scum of the EARTH, Captain. But the difference, there, was the scum they took, were MEN."

Martlet said, "Perhaps you had best... "

"What?" said Sarah pointing at the Vorlon. She, by that one act, demonstrated to all present that she was not afraid. This situation had long gone past fear. All you could do was forge forward into the dark valley.

Martlet said, "Him? Let us say that some of them stayed behind; when the rest departed after CORIANNA SIX. This one has been helpful.

Sarah abruptly asked Martlet, "Why are we here?"

Martlet said with a cold voice; "We are here at TARELLEN, my dear SARAH, because your precious NGS was too late!" He said this triumphantly; as if he, Ethan Martlet, had scored some kind of personal victory over her.

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FIRST BATTLE OF THENONTHK

It was depressing, as these things usually were.

The holographs were scratchy, snowy, and noise-distorted images: the usual result of tactical recordings made in a fierce countermeasures laden environment. Too many of the images, were of OMEGAS, exploding. Lockhart was committing familiar names to memory. The Aeneas, the Ajax; Hector, Patroclus, Diomedes, Perseus; too many famous hulls with too many of her friends and shipmates.

"Where?" she finally asked.

Ethan Martlet had the good sense to make himself scarce from the wardroom, when this terrible soliloquy began before the ANV Stauffenberg's command group and the Vorlon.

Lokay, who was drawing the individual images of the assembled group on a portrait pad, with a Minbari burn-stylus for some insane personal reason known only to himself; answered, "We, Minbari, call the system; KIDO VILANA. On Human maps it is listed as NGC 1002-148. Some on the Rim call it, THENONTHK. For some reason, I do not know, a task group of a dozen ALLIANCE destroyers went there; before we could get ourselves ready. There they fought and apparently lost. We sent White Star Fifty-six to recover a disaster buoy that was left after the battle, at the request of your ALLIANCE NGS. Fifty-six jumped in long enough to recover the buoy, and then it reasonably and prudently fled.

"It did not even do a cursory post battle reconnaissance? asked Captain Lockhart.

"Why bother?" said Lokay "You saw what destroyed those OMEGAS."

"Yes, I saw." said Captain Sarah Lockhart as cold as Martlet had been earlier.

"That was an entire Drakh Caravan." said Lokay, busy sketching. "Fifty-six reported back after Captain Martlet was sent to TRIGATI to pick you and me up. Here we are at TARELLEN, as Captain Martlet, so pointedly put it, arriving too late. The Drakh are moving. My guess is that the NGS thought the time was desperately shorter than they expected. So they scraped up a force out of SOL and sent it to... "

"Die." said Sarah Lockhart.

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Nightmares

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In Pi, Lee Quarters aboard the ANV Stauffenberg


Pi, Lee slept the sleep of the guilty.

SECTOR 49

"Who am I? I am Susan Ivanova, Commander, daughter of Andrei and Sophie Ivanova. I am the right hand of vengeance, and the boot that is going to kick your sorry ass all the way back to Earth... I am Death Incarnate, and the last living thing that you are ever going to see. God sent me."

Pi, Lee, a corporal-gunner remembered that transmission, as the answer, when the stupid commander of the 'specials' had asked "Who is this?"

Clark, who could read a map, had seen this one coming. From BABYLON 5 to Earth there was a logical place to mass an ambush fleet to stop the rebels with a flank jump. Sector 49 was Clark's obvious answer. There he posted all of his best captains, massed his best technicians, and hid his 'associates';     to keep them out of the sight of the run of the mill Earth Alliance citizenry. The great unwashed mass of fools would have panicked; if they saw what Clark gathered in their defense against the so-called alien menace.

Lee grimaced in memory, as he saw in flickers of his memory the Demon-heads with their near-Goblin allies work among the then puzzled Humans, who took the fifty-three standard OMEGAs, fresh from the Ceres Yards, and outfitted them with miracle-organic-technology armor and Minbari like neutron-beam slicers. He, Pi, Lee, had been taught by a Demon-head, how to use the new pod-mind directed guns on the EAS Hellus. Just point-and-shoot. Strange, it was, that all he had to do was run his two hands over the gangrenous football-shaped control node with his finger tips and simply will it to do what he wanted. It felt so dirty.

He, thus, fought again, the Battle of SECTOR 49 in his dream. The White Stars bounced them before they, of Section 13, were ready to ambush Sheridan massing at Proxima. Ivanova came at them with twenty of the plucked-chickens. She caught them up-sun getting ready to jump out in perfect space for her White Stars. And she carved them up. It did not matter that General Belson had arranged his perfect OMEGA tactical stackings, or that he moved inside the locus of the battle-space sphere with positive and precise control, until Ivanova killed him aboard his flag, the EAS TAMERLANE. It did not matter, that EAS Hellus, in return, had ripped White Star Eighteen nearly in half and had almost killed Ivanova. She was worse than Horatio Nelson, much worse than Togo, She was the perfect incarnation of Perry, Burke and Spruance.

Even when she was mortally wounded in her White Star, Ivanova reached out with her will., The Bone-heads, who served her, fought as no Minbari had ever fought. With discipline and her directed purpose, they carried out Ivanova's slashing to the tangent of the sphere attacks; staying massed and always at the moment of merge at the surface of the battle-space sphere able to bring three or four times the shock-power of the combined White-Stars to bear on an exposed corner of the Earth Force combat-box, at the precise moment when the ponderously turning OMEGAs had most of their heavy guns, completely out of arc.

'It was like watching a master-of-the-sword slice falling apples into quarters, again and again.' Pi, Lee thought, as he re-lived the battle. It was not a battle. It was an elegant butchery. Only Ivanova's intervention, as she was dying at the end, had spared any of the Section 13 personnel. It had been the Minbari, who had, not so gently, pulled Lee from his survival pod. But that was long hours after four White Stars in a firing pass, so like what Furies would do; had pierced the EAS Hellus' power plant and sent her to join her forty-seven eviscerated sisters to whatever Human Hell that lay in waiting for her doomed crew. Pi, seeing the future for what it is, had killed the Demon-head, who was supposed to be his gunnery section supervisor and had run for the escape pods, just before the plucked-chickens lined the EAS Hellas up.

He lived to see the mop-up of the six Section Thirteen survivors. (They did not last long.).

Then EFNI got him.

They told Pi, he was lucky. If somehow, Ivanova had not been saved (How this miracle happened, was still a mystery to the general public), they told him, that the Minbari would have dealt with him appropriately.

Lee protested. "I was only following orders." It had not worked with the EFNI either.

They owned him. And they remade him to suit themselves.

Thus; his present circumstance and his current nightmare had their same origins.

In retrospect, as Lee dreamed, he understood the justice in this; his present circumstance. As a stupid man, he should have died, but the Great Maker (In whom he did not believe.), had chosen to resurrect the dead man and give him a second life. Constrained and limited as it was, but it was a life, he lived. "Who do you serve?" EFNI asked him, when they remade him. With no more free will of his own any longer, for he belonged to them, he said the correct answer; "Life."

And so they let him live...

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Belios

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Inside the main passageway of White Star Sixty-two

It took six hours of beating around the bush, to get the true answer to Lockhart's question, but Belios got it. He was Brakiri. Fools, like that Drazi, Unealas, might doubt him; but Captain Lockhart knew his worth. Amongst that gathering of lack-wits, when the Vorlon shocked them all, did she not bring him, Belios, into her confidence, when she signed him, in their shared secret speak, to inquire behind the question she publicly asked the odious mashanka, Martlet? "Why are we here?" Indeed, the audacity of the challenge she publicly threw down before the enemy, was so bold as to be worthy of the greatest Syndicalist!

Those who plotted against her, would not find killing her, or stopping the ANV Stauffenberg that easy.

Belios had the name of the one who led them aboard this vessel.

He suspected that Captain Lockhart would make an example of the fool.

But right now, Belios had a bomb to re-set.

The ANV Stauffenberg party did it in turns, going to the Vulture every twenty or so minutes to reset the timer. One of them would irregularly go to the Vulture, and randomly poke or prod something desperately in need in repair. It was a Vulture. Even the most suspicious Minbari would accept, that the Human-made junk-pile needed constant attention, to prevent an 'accident'. 

This time; Belios would work on the radio.

He came to the White Star Hanger, went through those whooshing doors, and made his way to the access tunnel that led to the externally mated Vulture.

He translated from Sixty-two's artificial gravity to the Vulture's nausea inducing micro-gravity with minimum discomfort. 'How do the Humans do it?' he wondered.

'Ah, Unealas, so you can do something right after all!' he thought silently.

The 'radio' was not hard to 'fix'. Two minutes remained before it would have gone off. It was as plot cliche as one of those Human film noirs that were so popular on LOKTA. Belios smiled as he thought of home.

He kept working at his 'repairing', to keep whatever Minbari was tasked to watch him, 'happy'.

While Belios fumbled with the 'radio', he thought about what he would tell Captain Lockhart, and what he would withhold in bargaining for that information.

Interesting what he found out about this White Star Captain.

He, that Captain, had taken his White Star to the Rim more often than any other Anla Shok Captain, which was unusual, since NOBODY should be that eager to go into GREEN Space. Nobody, of this ship's crew, wanted to talk about what he, that Captain, did when he left them to go on personal jaunts alone in his Flyer.

Belios had some 'information' about that activity. Anyway he could, he would try to sell it to Lockhart.

Most of those flights had been into the Cometary Halo of THENONTHK, for example.

He was a Brakiri and a thief besides a good navigator. And even Minbari Flyers had flight recorders.

He thought Captain Lockhart would be interested in the activities of a certain Ethan Martlet.

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T'Kann

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In the Wardroom of the White Star.

T"Kann had nail scars on his palms from his fist clenching. That damned Vorlon kept staring at him. The Minbari, dutiful dolls that they were, stood silent and smiling. Xenophoebal, genocidal maniacs, that they were, T'Kann was none too happy to be up close and personal with those psychotics. The Centauri were bad enough.

The senior Anla Shok, (Lokay, T'Kann thought?) just doodled on a drawing tablet. T'Kann peeked at the sketches. The figures were strikingly heroic. he saw the drawing of himself and became Narn embarrassed. He did not tend to think of himself in that way.

Across the wardroom, T'Kann heard the Stauffenberg CAG ask one of the smiling xenophoebes inane ridiculous  questions.about the White Star's performance envelope. T'Kann's attention focused on the answer that the Bone-head gave.

She spoke quite qualitatively, in great general detail, subjectively, with positive emotional bias, as one would sort of expect of a Minbari Religious Caste who said a great deal, but told you nothing.

T'Kann was a good eavesdropper and was quite skilled at putting numbers to grandiloquent statements. As he mentally graphed probabilities and the potential limits of the White Star from of what garbage words he heard, he came to understand exactly why the Humans feared Minbari technology.

T'Kann did not forget what Lockhart had instructed him to do, when she had covertly signed to him during her confrontation with the Anla Shok, Martlet. 'Keep everything calm. Do nothing provacative at all.' she told him.

So T'Kann turned back to the Vorlon and to Lokay. More than ever, T'Kann wanted the reassurance of a platoon of ALLIANCE Marines (Preferable all Gaim drones armed with Thumpers), or even a gun.

He asked Lokay, as the Minbari drew what looked a picture of Captain Lockhart tearing the head off of a Demon-head with her bare hands, "Where are you from, if I may ask?"

"Tuzanor." said Lokay.

That surprised T'Kann, who thought that Lokay might have been a TRIGATI Colonial Religious.

"I visited Tuzanor, once." T'Kann said. "Of course that was after the riots, and General Franklin landed the Eighth Corps to stop the fighting." He waited for the Minbari's reactions. Nothing Lokay revealed.

"It is a beautiful city, filled with remarkable treasures. It is a shining example of advanced culture that should be protected." said Lokay. He said quietly, "We, Minbari, were ready to destroy that treasure, Tuzanor, in our civil war when the ALLIANCE stopped the fighting. Lokay continued to sketch, quickly and effortlessly. This time it was an image of a parachute-filled sky above a nameless Minbari city, as he spoke.

He looked up at T'Kann as he filled in the details of the Crystal Falls, and asked the Narn, "Is your Captain trying to provoke something?"

T'Kann lied; "I do not know."

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Keffer

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In the Wardroom of White Star Sixty-Two

The White Star Captain had been gone for some time. The THENONTHK battle recording soured Matt's usually sunny disposition. Being cooped up in this compartment, with a silent Vorlon, a crazy sketching Minbari, a couple of Bone-head bookends who smiled politely, who brought you sklava when you asked to slake your thirst; who answered your questions about their ship with meaningless drivel, would do that to him.. He looked over at T'Kann. He wondered just what the Captain expected the Narn and him to do; if the Light-bulb decided to shine? Keffer figured that after T'Kann bought the farm, firs,t that Lockhart would expect him to try some something, anything, next, to keep Mister Vorlon busy long enough, so she could do, Keffer knew not what she would do? 

For the moment, the sketching Minbari had the Narn's undivided attention. 'Tuzanor? What did the Spoo-head know about Tuzanor? If he wanted to the hear stories about Tuzanor, Matt could fill T'Kann's ears with the words. Matt had fought in the skies over Tuzanor, and afterwards he had healed there from the injuries he suffered. So he knew the history of the ALLIANCE, there; first person singular.'

T'Kann broke free of the Minbari and came over to Keffer. Matt looked at the Narn with something more than a lack of amusement. "Did you have a nice heart-to-heart with our sketch artist friend?'

T'Kann, smiled his Narnish fighting smile, as he spoke  Narnish tribal two; "I smelled an opportunity to find out what our Captain has not been able to tell us, in this mixed company." He pointed at the Minbari, Lokay. "That guy knows a lot of living and too  many dead languages." Then T'Kann switched to Kalo. "I doubt that he knows this language, though." Matt taken aback switched to Kalo himself. "Why are you speaking this one? It has not been spoken generally for a thousand years. Not since the last Ikarran died out..."

T'Kann said, "I smell danger, here, and I speak what the Ikarrans spoke, because who alive, now, speaks dead languages; besides you crazy Humans and this one crazy Narn?"

Keffer warned T'Kann, "Nothing is certain," hoping the Narn would understand that mice should not ever believe or underestimate the cat. He said that in Latin. "We could speak any language we want and it might be to no avail." Switching to Alliance Battle Language, Keffer spoke to the compartment walls. "It is funny, T'Kann, that we have to resort to this subterfuge?. You know," he signed and spoke in the code couplets, "that some people are just plain rude. You would have to expect them to do something stupid, like spy on their honored guests... "

T'Kann was not totally at ease with fighter-pilot ABLE; so he had trouble following the CAGs tirade. Nor did he totally understand the reason for it. But he had that 'we are about to do something stupid' feeling; whenever he was in the company of a Human who was following his own intuition; like Keffer appeared to be doing, now. Not too good. The last time T'Kann had been in such a situation, his G'QUAN had been sliced in two, and a lot of ugly Centauri had showed up at KOTAK, uninvited. It had turned out okay in the end; but there was that in-between 'not-too-good' and the 'happy ending'; when he had been in a Centauri prison-labor-camp.

Keffer, for his part, did not need the Narn to totally understand his shenanigans. He was quite satisfied that the ANV Stauffenberg's Helmsman would follow his lead. "Let us go talk to the Light-bulb." he suggested to T'Kann.

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In the Hall of the Mountain King

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Actually en-route to talk to a Light-bulb.

Follow the ALLIANCE Captain as she makes her way through White Star Sixty-two. She is dressed as a Narn Talon Leader this time. She carries her Amiga cradled in her left arm.

She appears to be worried.

One thing Lockhart knew about her CAG. He was not bashful. Stupid. Disobedient. Courageous. Inept. Ignorant.  Foolish. Brave. She could think of dozens of words to describe Keffer and her equally imbecilic incompetent Narn Pilot/Helmsman. Why did they approach the Vorlon? She told T'Kann to watch the FO. Not talk to the creature. She had told Keffer to wait for Captain Martlet. Could not anybody in her stupendously dimwitted crew follow her 'do-nothing-to-provoke-any-response-from-anyone' simple instructions anymore?

The Vorlon had shocked them, T'Kann and Keffer, for their impudence.

Now she was headed to meet the Vorlon to apologize on the behalf of her crew.

The Vorlon had moved from the wardroom to its quarters. Sarah made the deliberate decision to leave Banak behind. She had, after all, promised the Star-Rider, that she would ask him to do nothing that threatened his own people. This would definitely not help the Minbari at all, if he was present and manifest. Besides, this was one meeting best confined to the Vorlon and herself.

It was a disquieting situation, she faced. Supposedly, the Vorlons either basically ignored the lesser creatures around them; or used them as lab animals in their incomprehensible philosophical experiments.

It was purportedly one of the reasons that the incomparable Sheridan used; that had convinced them to leave the galaxy after CORIANNA SIX. The Young Ones were not of sufficient quality to be used in such 'discussions'.

Only this one Vorlon had not left.

And the way he acted; throwing her people around in a lightning storm, instead of burning them down tol ash, at where they stood?

Having a Vorlon invite you over for 'tea and crumpets' after such a weird demonstration of irrational, for a Vorlon, behavior was not a good thing.

Sarah approached the Vorlon's quarters and pounded on the 'hatch'. Confidence? 

The door whooshed open.

Sarah resolutely marched into the Vorlon's presence.

The Vorlon stood in its encounter suit, with its presumed back to her.

'So even a First Ones can be petty.' thought Captain Lockhart in a frank test of the Vorlon's ability to read minds.

This one gave away nothing to her.

Sarah blanked her mind; only allowing thoughts to form in it, when she was prepared to speak the words.

Sarah reached for her Amiga carefully as the Vorlon turned to face her.

One eye-sweep of the compartment showed her that it was bare; except for the Vorlon.

She knelt down before the First One, carefully set her Amiga, saying nothing. She unfolded it. She turned it on; so that it replayed what she had recorded into it. The Analog came up and played out the entire grim footage of THENONTHK., where the OMEGAs died.

The Vorlon stood in its encounter suit and warbled for several seconds. "Shadow Thralls.'

The Analog played through to completion. The Vorlon stood there silent before the kneeling Human. Both of them waited until the Analog finished showing the last OMEGA dying.

The silence dragged on with neither being saying a word.

Then the Vorlon warbled, "Chastise Them."

Lockhart abruptly stood. "I intend to do so."

The Vorlon warbled, "Apology accepted."

Lockhart then said, with her mind completely honestly blank, "Thank you."

The Vorlon said, "Leave."

Sarah collected her Amiga, and left.

Now, she could kill Martlet without interference.

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Play a Little Game of Chess With Me.

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Unealas, Banak, and Lockhart in Unealas' Quarters Aboard Sixty-two.

"I look ridiculous." complained Banak, as he tried to see himself in his new "ISAN" uniform."Why do the Narn insist on animal hides and metal studs?"

Unealas said sourly, "Spoo-head psychology. Inferiority complex. Narns resent the fact they sucked in by con-men Centauri. When Fanheads pull out after looting world, the Marsupials thump chest like big Lopar and claim victory. Build self up with noise. Noise in words. Noise in ships. Noise even in clothes....zzzzzzzzzzzzttttttttttttt." he finished in derision.

Sarah bent over in laughter.

"This must be some Human social conspiracy to make all the members of the Interstellar Alliance equally stupid in appearance; if not in capability. More of that sapient egalitarianism that you Hairballs claim is the basis of all inter-species relations?" asked Banak quizzically.

Sarah said; "It is actually a 'quid pro quo' or 'this for that' to which we agreed; to get the Narns to accept our version of the ALLIANCE charter. We gave them the uniforms, and some superficial say in the ISAN for the Narn Regime finally accepting the form of government we have." Here, the Human Captain's face set itself, as stone. 'The Narns wanted to run the ALLIANCE to suit themselves.'  " 'One sapient, one vote' only works if you are not a mob." she said harshly. "Therefore, we gave them the 'show of power' in 'Representation', while the Vree and we retained the real power. Imagine having us dying for the Narn Regime, to take CENTAURI PRIME? Insane. MINBAR was tough enough on us, and that was for ourselves."

Silence hung in the air of the compartment...

"Besides we need all of our strength for a task far more dangerous than Narn revenge." Lockhart said.

"The Drakh?" asked Banak.

Unealas said, "Ugh! The OMEGAs not fall to Drakh that easy. Clowns not able to organize own selves short to tall; if you give ruler to them with instructions. Drakh are DUMB."

Banak looked at Lockhart.

She said, "Unealas is colorful in speech, but he is correct. The Drakh had help. To time that Caravan and to lay that fire-sack out the way they did? Who besides the Centauri or Humans use that kind of tactics? Nobody."

She continued, "The Drakh should be minor players. They have no logistic base. They have no tactical skills that anyone has seen, nor do they exhibit the organizational skills that you could expect from any first class space-faring culture. They act like jackals, merely scavenging. In time we would have fortified JERICHO as a forward base and then we would have seen them splinter themselves in small disorganized groupings against our fixed defenses. The NGS knows this. We counted on time to set our pieces in place" She smiled with thin-lipped anger, "The Traitor, Clark, and Sheridan's War to remove him, put a couple of serious dents in the schedule, but it still should have worked. Even if the 'shrinks' were correct about the Drakh religious bent, they were so incompetent that by the time they got their Caravans together, we would be ready, ourselves, to meet them. That was the essence of WARPLAN GREEN." she concluded.

"So why send OMEGAs?" asked Unealas. "Me speculate, Captain. Why stir up Drakh fools? Why hunt for trouble before ready? Not even Purple Drazi that dumb." Unealas stirred to collect Sarah's Amiga where she had it laying tilted on a Minbari-designed desk. "Please?" he asked.

"Go ahead, Mister." she said. "I am curious to see if you see the same picture, I do."

Banak looked at the two in confusion, "Picture?" he asked.

"Map." said Unealas as he activated the Amiga's Analog. "Think this. OMEGAs have much fighters and troops. Much jump-range. Can sustain selves without support long time. Only Human ships beside WARLOCK with weight-making machine that keep Humans happy in space long-time. There, you see? Map shows all!" Unealas said happily.



Banak looked at the region labelled as GREEN Space. He started to trace with his finger the jump-routes.

Sarah, where she sat cross-legged on the bedroll that Unealas used, with her head tilted suddenly jack-knifed up from the floor, and reached to the Amiga. She adjusted it with closed-eyed ease. She said, "Look."

The highlighted jump-routes stood out clearly. Blue routes were ALLIANCE. Yellow were Minbari. Red were those of the Centauri Orange were those of the LONAW. Green were those of the Rim. Sarah put a green circle around THENONTHK with an arrow pointing toward----

"Z'HADUM." said Banak."And THENONTHK is what you Humans call a choke-point." He nodded in his slower-than-Humans-would-cognate Minbari comprehension. "Some might call that the gate to Z'HADUM? A gate that someone tried to slam shut?"

Lockhart nodded. "Someone tried."

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Talk, Stool Pigeons

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The Hanger: in the Vulture ; White Star Sixty-two

Captain Sarah Lockhart had her Navigator by his throat dangling as she held him aloft. "I have been patient with you, Mister Navigator. I have even overlooked some of your extra-duty activities; because, after all, you are a Brakiri. Those activities even proved useful to me from time to time. But now you want to BARGAIN over this?"

"Bomb." gasped Belios struggling for air.

"Oh?" said Captain Lockhart. She looked casually around. Belios tried to point. Lockhart just squeezed him a little tighter, cutting off more air. Belios started to fade to grey.

"There!" he croaked.

Lockhart sedately reset the detonator. "Now," she said, "I am going to let you inhale, Mister Belios. When you exhale to draw another breath, I expect you to tell me, what I told you to find out. Do you understand? Nod your head, yes. That is a good Syndicalist." she said as Belios nodded his head yes in obedience. She relaxed her hold on his throat, slightly.

"It is as you suspect. He made at least five trips to the Rim, the last two just before TG 60.1 was destroyed and the ambush at THENONTHK of TF 60 was set.

Sarah nodded, "All right, Mister Navigator. You may live for now. Write the details of what you learned, as an official report, as soon as we get back to our ship."

Belios rubbed his neck. He would not be trying any Syndicalist tricks with this over-boss, ever again. She was too Brakiri to be Human.

He said, "As you order."

"Captain." said Lockhart.

"As you order, Captain." said Belios.

Lockhart made her way past the assorted Minbari, who always seemed to be in the passage-ways of this White Star, going to or coming from, but never at their posts. She had her own immediate goal. She had delayed it long enough, almost two decades too long.

Memories came to her, as she walked...

... the ambush of the SHARLINs worked. Timing was everything. She was a junior engineer aboard the EAS Calypso. She knew what she was supposed to do. As soon as the Minbari battle-group entered into her kill-box, the EAS Calypso and her sister-ship the EAS Mithridates would both exit from their Hyper-space hides. First, would come the EAS Mithridates to set up the wormhole inflation-event. Then would come the EAS Calypso to open her own wormhole, inside of the first wormhole. If they timed it exactly right, Sarah knew that the EAS Calypso, EAS Mithridates, and five of those accursed SHARLINs would all go; to whatever Hell the Great Maker had in store for the collective lot of them. She was prepared for that ending.

Her Captain had not been.

So five SHARLINS that should not have escaped the Battle of the Line, seeing their fellows engulfed in the two hundred of some double jump-point detonations that occurred in the near day-side of EARTH over the Western Hemisphere fled the kill-boxes. they flashed past EARTH and flicked it with their neutron-slicers as they opened jump-points between the EARTH and the Moon. She did not know how many thousands of people the SHARLINs killed, as they stroked the Canadian Rockies, or the Chilean Andes, and the points in between, with their death beams in their flight. Earth Force, what little there was left of it, tried to pursue the Minbari fugitives, but to no avail. The SHARLINs escaped.

To add to Sarah's sorrow, her Captain did not even try to join in the pursuit. Perhaps, he had misjudged the timing of the inflation event. She might accept that. But to not even try to give chase when the Minbari fled?...

... She was at his quarters. The door whooshed open. Captain Ethan Martlet was seated at his desk. He turned around in his chair to face her, as she came in.

"Hello, Sarah." he said.

Sarah noticed the gun in his hand, pointed at her belly.

"On a first name basis, again, are we?"asked Sarah.

"For now." said Captain Martlet. "How long that now is?"

"Cut the noise, Martlet." said Lockhart. "I saw you at the Line, Melodrama Queen. Coward you were, Coward you are. Do you think YOU frighten me?"

She stepped forward a step, all the distance she needed, actually.

"Now I see why the NGS chose you to handle this mission. Ethan said nonchalantly as he rustled through some papers on his desk. You actually drafted WARPLAN GREEN, did you not?' he asked Sarah.

Sarah said nothing.

"Are you not even going to ask me, what I have been doing?" asked Captain Martlet.

Sarah said nothing.

"Well, maybe I should tell you anyway." he said. "I was trying to re-open a line to Shadow technology. You know how EARTH needs that technology. The only ones who have it now..."

He stopped and looked into Lockhart's eyes.

She said nothing.

"Damn you, say something!" he yelled.

In frustration he fired a shot, which he intended to tear apart her left arm. Anything, even pain, he would use to get her to acknowledge him, his existence, his purpose.

The plasma bolt slammed into the wall behind Sarah. She did not even acknowledge it, or the fact that he, Ethan, somehow missed her at a no-miss range.

Martlet looked at his his gun hand. It was shaking.

"No wonder, I missed." he said, as he looked at his hand in wonder. Those were the very last words that Captain Ethan Martlet ever uttered. His head fell off his body, and his headless body rolled out of his chair onto the deck.

Just like that.

Sarah retracted her variable knife, and watched the blood leak of the two halves of what used to be Captain Ethan Martlet's neck...

Fifteen minutes later......Same place, different pair;

... Lokay shook his head in wonder. "This is something I would expect from the Centauri or the Narn, But you Humans? I thought you believed in LAW!"

Sarah, dressed now in Star-Rider Blacks, said quietly; "Martlet was a traitor. He was so identified. I dealt with him on that basis. If you need the pertinent ISAN UCMJ articles?"

"He was not in your ALLIANCE! Your laws did not apply to him!" yelled Lokay.

"No, he was not Alliance." said Sarah softly. She reached out and grabbed the Minbari by his tunic. Lokay looked down into the very gun that Martlet had tried to use on Lockhart.

"And he was not alone in his treachery, either, Lokay." said Lockhart.

"I am not afraid." said Lokay. "I live for the One, I die for the One."

"Save it for those who believe in your fairy tales." said Sarah. "I will probably wind up killing you, anyway, Lokay. However, I would like to give you a chance to reclaim your honor before you die. Are you interested in a deal?"

"What do you want me to do?" said Lokay.

"Well; as ridiculous as it sounds, Lokay." Sarah said, with a twisted cherubic smile. "I am going to ask you to take a seat, and then I am going to insist that you learn."

This caused Lokay to blanche in terror.

Sarah watched the Minbari turn a sick shade of yellow.

"You cannot do that thing." pleaded the hapless Ch'Domo.

"Mister Banak!" said Sarah briskly.

The tall Star-Rider entered the compartment. He wore his ISAN studs and leathers. He held a Human PPG in his hand. This he promptly leveled at Lokay.

"Mister Lokay is our uninvited guest." said Captain Lockhart. "He will be joining us for a short while on the ANV Stauffenberg. Any word about Mister Keffer and Mister T'Kann?"

Banak said, "Mister Keffer and Mister T'Kann will be up and about in a quarter-day according to the Healer."

Lockhart, always thinking about her ship, asked; "Is this healer the only one, present, aboard this tub?"

Banak said; "No, Captain. D'Laren is one of four such."

Lockhart was talking to herself, "Unealas, Banak, this scum, (She shook Lokay.), T'Kann, Matthew, that Healer, the Vorlon, me... The Vulture is going to be crowded."

Banak and Lokay, both surprised, asked; "Vorlon?'

Sarah said to them, "You do not think that I am going anywhere without the White King, do you?"

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End of Chapter 1; Part 2

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