Dalshon
Chapter 10
Lennier tried not to let his embarrassment show. He had more to worry about than how he looked, after all.
The two Rangers questioned him for a long time. The warriors stayed out of it. Lennier answered everything promptly and fully, but his captors did not believe him.
The human Ranger broke off to start making arrangements to bring their ship in to dock, and transfer the whole party from the hotel to the Whitestar. At that point Lennier would have no more hope of escape. If he were going to get away, he had to try it while they were still on Untika.
But perhaps he should not try to escape. The Anla'shok called him deserter, with anger on their faces, but they showed no sign of intending violence toward him. If they took him onboard the Whitestar, it would surely be to bring him to Minbar. And Delenn.
Could he stand to be brought before her looking like this? Surely he would be given appropriate clothing, perhaps even a uniform, to appear before the Entilza.
Should he beg for her forgiveness? No, that would not do. He had only acted out of his desperate love for her. He would stand before Delenn in the silence of his misery. It was not mercy that he wanted from her. And that was good, because Delenn had none. What he wanted was for her to see how much he loved her, how he would do anything for her love, and for her to embrace him and raise him up beside her. He wanted Delenn to throw off her attachment to that hairy human barbarian and open herself to her own kind.
What he wanted was impossible.
"Hey." The voice of the young Minbari male intruded on Lennier's reverie. Lennier looked up at him, and at his Anla'shok pin, proudly shining on his chest. That should be Lennier's place. Lennier's uniform. Lennier's life.
There were many warriors in the room now, including the tall one, who stood close to the Captain.
The young Anla'shok asked him, "Have you issued any loribond commands that you have not counterphrased?"
"No," Lennier said.
The Ranger looked at him, considering.
Lennier realized he did not believe him about that, either. "I did penance for my lie," Lennier said. "Do I have to spend the rest of my life making up for one little mistake?" Lennier looked down, and to the side, and stared at a bare patch of carpet. That was not the one mistake he was really paying for, now. His assassination attempt had not even been an attack. Merely a moment of inaction, an opportunity to let the ship claim Sheridan's life. He had not really tried to kill him. He had only failed to rescue him.
It had seemed like such a perfect moment at the time. Just don't push the button. Just don't open the door. Like fate was calling to him, to take hold of life and get everything he ever wanted. An accident—random chance—destiny calling. Seize the moment. Sheridan would have died a hero, trying to rescue the unconscious crewmember. And Lennier would have been there to comfort Delenn afterwards.
Instead destiny took a hard left turn and the whole universe derailed around him.
"What does that mean to you," asked the young Ranger, "one little mistake? What is it that you are running from?"
To his shame, Lennier heard his voice break tearily as he replied, "My moment. My chance."
Perhaps he should tell them what he had done, Lennier thought. Then at least they might believe he was telling them the truth about all the rest.
"What moment?" Khunnier pressed. "You called yourself a fugitive, not a deserter. You did something. Then you ran. What did you do?"
Very quietly, not looking up, Lennier replied, "I tried to kill Sheridan."
"WHAT?" bellowed the tall warrior. He bounded over and picked Lennier up, chair and all. The dress ripped and the chair crashed to the floor. The warrior had his hands around Lennier's neck. "You did what?"
Lennier tried to respond and could not make a sound. His eyes bulged. He fought against the restraints, uselessly.
"Firuun!" yelled the human. "Let go! What are you thinking? He is our prisoner."
Firuun let go and backed off, breathing as hard as Lennier was. The wild hate in his eyes turned to admiration as he looked at his Captain. "You're right. Sorry."
Lennier coughed several times, eyes watering.
"We should get him to the ship's doctor, just in case," said the human Ranger. She turned to some of the young warriors "Prepare him for travel."
They got Lennier out of the chair and tied his hands behind his back. Then the warriors, Rangers, and their prisoner—without the dress now, just in the corset and garter set—walked out into the streets of Untika.
Males of various species ogled Lennier. A few humans whistled. By the time they reached the lock where the Whitestar had put in, they were practically a parade. A reporter and a police official waited for them by the airlock, both there to confirm that this was the Anla'shok deserter. Both were satisfied.
The police officer left, and most of the crowd dispersed. That was when the local mob made their move.
A flash of light. A loud sound. For a moment Lennier thought that another bomb had gone off.
He realized it was a stun grenade when he woke up. He was not in a Whitestar. He was in an unfamiliar hull, somewhere on Untika.
A mixed group of humans, Centauri, Drazi, and a few aliens Lennier did not recognize were gathered around him. His hands were still tied.
"Um, thank you for rescuing me?"
A gritty looking human said, "You're welcome. Now let me tell you the price."
"I will pay any reasonable fee," Lennier said. "I will tell you where I have cached my money."
"Cor! We don't want your money. We can make plenty of money selling things that are a lot easier to get. Money, for going up against the Whitestar Fleet and the Rangers? I don't think so. No, you're just going to make a little propaganda film for us."
"Um. What do you want me to do?"
"Oh, nothing too bizarre. I ain't in the snuff business, or the porn business. Just read a little historical script for us. Prove us right about something, that's all. And then you can go, Scott-free." He handed Lennier a hand-comp. "Here. Just a few words from our sponsor. You're the alien influence, see? Folks back home will pay us a pretty penny for this, now that the gossip rags are all on about Sheridan, and how Clark was right about him all along."
"Oh. I see." Lennier did see. He read the short statement. It seemed acceptable. Now that he thought about it, he realized that this would indeed harm Sheridan's reputation, and of course Lennier's, but not necessarily Delenn's. She would not be tarnished by this. "Alright. I will do it."
"Good, mate. Good." He turned to one of the Centauri. "Set up the camera."
They untied Lennier, cleaned the makeup off of him, removed the appliances and got him into proper male Minbari attire, a brown civilian suit with gold sashing across it.
Lennier looked into the camera and recited the statement. "Starkiller. Kill the Earth President. Speak of this to no one until the mission is complete."
End of Chapter 10