"Because if you don't have an appointment, I'll have to ask you to leave." The owner of
both the voice and the gun was definitely female. She had been standing next to the door,
and had put the gun on him as soon as he'd stepped inside. He could, he supposed, try and
knock the gun out of her hand, but he was horribly out of practice and she may very well
manage to pull the trigger.

"No," he said, "I don't have an appointment. I was sent here." He was perfectly calm and
collected, there was no point in panicking. It was something he'd learned as an acolyte
and again as a ranger, keeping a clear head was the best defense against anything.

She moved in front of him, so that she was now facing him. She was a human female, slightly
shorter than he was, with dark blue eyes and short, curly, dark red hair. She was wearing
grey cargo pants, black boots, and a light grey tank top. The gun, which was still pointing
at him, was much larger than a standard PPG and was probably both very deadly and very illegal.

"Who sent you?" she challenged.

He reached inside his jacket and she gave him a warning look and said, "slowly, no sudden
movements." Lennier slowly pulled out the papers that Oofer had given him and held them out
to her. She snatched them from his hand and read them, still pointing the gun at him.

"Hmmm, that was quick," she scowled, "too quick, typical of that slug Oofer, totally ignores
my requirements, just thinks he can send me a random Minbari without asking qualifications,"
she read further, "Lennier huh? Well," she said looking up at him, "I don't suppose you can
translate ancient Minbari texts."

"Yes, I studied it as an acolyte in the temple."

She looked surprised, "Really? I thought you guys spent your whole lives in the temples
studying. What are you doing on this dump?"

He didn't answer but looked at her completely straight-faced. After a few seconds she smiled
and said, "nevermind, it's none of my business. I should thank my stars that you have all the
requirements I need."

She put the gun in its holster and extended her hand, "I'm Dr. Priscilla Carter."

He shook her hand, "Lennier."

Dr. Carter smiled and then went to her desk. The office was very small, cramped and hot.
The desk took up most of it, and that was covered with papers , books and thousands of
coffee cups. Buried underneath the mess was a work station which pathetically beeped for
attention.

"Sorry about the gun," she said, moving a bunch of papers to get at the work station,
"I'm just really paranoid I guess," she chuckled, "not without cause you understand, this
isn't the most hospitable place I've been to."

"Dangerous?"

She laughed, "Dangerous? Yeah. I've been attacked several times since coming here, three
months ago," she began punching in commands, "last week someone rang the bell, I answer it
and got rushed, totally made a mess before they realized there was nothing worth stealing.
Still, they knocked me out, the bastards. That's why I don't answer the door anymore. There!"
She finished typing and then looked back up at him, "You're all set, you work for me now," she
grinned.

"Thank you," he said, "now I should find a place to live." He turned to leave, but she stopped
him.

"Actually, during the summer, everyone tends to stay at the dig. It's too far away to be really
convenient to live in the main colony complex. I just come here to hand in progress reports
and make requests which usually get ignored by the pathetic excuse for a government. Do you
have any baggage?"

He shook his head, "just the clothes I'm wearing," he said.

She raised her eyebrows, "Well, you translate for me and you can have a bed to sleep in and
something to eat." She picked up her bag which was next to her chair and started towards the
door, "Come on, I'll show you your new, hot, muddy home."