Chapter 7 Clashes

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Bar in Brown Sector

Morden walked into the bar and looked around. He did not usually frequent such shady establishments. But the meeting had been set and this was neutral territory from Morden's point of view. It would do.

Morden calmly walked to a table already occupied by a tall well-built man, a worker in the docks most likely. Morden in him made a discordant pair. Anyone who would have seen them, would have thought Morden must have sat there because there was no other place to sit. Indeed, Morden strengthened that impression by not looking once at the man who shared his table. Not even when the man's eyes flashed briefly black. Morden acted as if that happened to him every day. He merely leaned back in his chair and signed to the barman to bring him a drink.

"You're in my territory," Morden said then casually. "I thought my associates had an agreement with your kind. You make all the mess you want in your little corner of the universe and you don't interfere in places you know have our interest."

The other scoffed. He looked at Morden with the utmost contempt.

"You mean I'm in your masters' territory," he corrected. "Or should I say your associates, as you are so deluded to call them? I don't know who you're trying to fool – the rest of the world or yourself – that you're nothing but the mouthpiece of creatures so indolent they use others to set things in motion and just sit by and watch."

Morden raised his eyebrows at that. The notion seemed to amuse him.

"You're one to talk," he pointed out. "You're not even here in your true form. You've taken host in the body of a washed-out docks-worker named Stan – now that's an unimpressive name for a demon. I think I'll use it, though. Sounds just as washed out as you and your kind now are."

"What do you mean?" the demon snarled.

Morden shrugged his shoulders, looking calm in the face of the other's fury.

"Let's face it," he began reasonably. "You're obsolete. You're a product of an ignorant age of fear and myth. I'm surprised you're not extinct already. You had your chance at apocalypse a couple of years back and rumour has it you were thwarted by two boys. Not a good performance, wouldn't you say? But we…well, it's our turn now. something tells me we'll do better."

The demon actually laughed at this.

"You," he spat. "You think you're working for the Shadows – but in reality you're working for us just as much. Think of all the people you're deluding into following you and your master – the Earth president, your Psi Corps friends, Mollari…where do you think their souls are bound now that you've led them so far into darkness? Where do you think they'll go when they die? In the past year you and your associates have started working, you've bought us more souls than we could have gotten in the same period of time with all our deals put together."

Morden lifted his drink in an ironic toast

"All in a good day's work," he said mockingly. "The way you're talking one would say you're actually envious of my performance. Is that why you're here, Stan? Is this what this whole business with the talisman is about? You want to make sure you snag a few souls for yourself – after all, you can't have me take all the credit, can you?"

The demon cast Morden a confused look. Then he shook his head.

"What are you talking about?" he demanded. "I didn't bring the talisman here. Why would I? I came after it."

Morden stared at his table companion incomprehensibly. He was beginning to figure out that he had been going about this matter all wrong.

"You want to get it off the station," he discovered.

"Yes," the demon nodded firmly. "I want to take it with me. We have our uses for it. Trust me, we do not want any of your potential victims to use it for their own devices. So instead of having this little hissy fit of yours, we could help each other. Let me start: those "boys" you so contemptuously claim beat our apocalypse – they're here. I'd suggest you keep an eye on them before they ruin your plans as well as mine."

The demon got up and made to leave. He stopped by Morden's chair and looked down on him.

"One more thing," he began. "I suggest you behaved nicely when encountering one of us. After all you've done, we'll be seeing each other soon. I heard they got a rack downstairs with your name on it. You don't want to make us too upset, do you?"

Sam and Dean's room

After striking up the agreement with Delenn, Sam and Dean went back to their room. It was time to contact Bobby and give him and update on what was going on. Calls to Earth from the station were expensive, but Bobby had insisted on being updated as soon as the two arrived on the station. That had already been a few days ago, so the older hunter was probably waiting for them to call and seething that they did not do so already. Castiel too had to be just as impatient for news of the talisman.

True enough, when Bobby appeared on the small screen he looked furious. Castiel was right behind him.

"I see you two idjits finally got round to calling," Bobby grumbled.

"Good to see you too, Bobby," Dean retorted sarcastically. "We're doing fine, by the way, thank you."

"Have you located the object I sent you to get?" Castiel inquired then.

Dean sighed heavily.

"I see you're not into polite small-talk today," he muttered. "Yes, as a matter of fact we've found it. That is, we know where it is and we know who has it and we might know how to get it too."

"It's a talisman," Sam explained. "Right now, it's in the possession of some guy who sells powerful objects to influential people – mostly those of alien races."

"He sounds like a real gentleman," Bobby grumbled. "And you're going to do what? Steal it from him?"

Sam cleared his throat, shifting from foot to foot.

"Uh, no Bobby," he answered, "We're actually going to buy it."

Bobby started laughing at that.

"I hate to burst that bubble you've got floating around in your noggin," he began, "But our resources combined won't be enough for the price your friend will be asking for that talisman."

"Yeah, we thought so," Dean agreed. "But the price won't be coming from our resources."

Bobby looked at Dean questioningly. He was beginning to feel uneasy. The two had a penchant for reckless plans. Bobby wondered worriedly what they might have gotten into now.

"Dare I ask whose resources will be paying for this, then?"

"The Minbari Government's," Dean answered promptly. "Well, actually, I think they'll be coming out of their Ambassador's own pocket as I kinda doubt she'll inform the government about this."

"I'm beginning to like what you're saying less and less," Bobby warned.

Dean shrugged his shoulders helplessly.

"Take it up with Sammy," he advised Bobby. "He's the one who thought we needed to enlist the Minbari Ambassador's help to get the talisman."

"It's the only way we can get the thing without doing much damage," Sam justified himself. "And we've convinced Delenn it's in her best interest to help us. She'll come through for this, I'm sure of it."

Bobby grumbled something unintelligible and probably quite unflattering. Castile, meanwhile, was frowning.

"You enlisted Delenn's help?" he inquired.

Dean raised his eyebrows at the concern in Castiel's voice.

"Friend of yours, Cas?" he wanted to know.

Castiel shook his head.

"I only know a few things about her," he said. "There are rumours she is working closely with Kosh the Vorlon."

Sam looked intrigued at that. Dean, on the other hand, could not bring himself to care. True, the Vorlons were an interesting bunch – although from the little Dean had heard about them, he judged them to be more self-important than anything. And anyway, political alliances were not his things. They did not interest him one bit and he was slightly surprised that they would interest Castiel.

"Hey Cas," Sam began curiously. "What is your beef with Kosh anyway?"

"I do not think that is relevant to you completing your mission and returning with the talisman," Castiel said sharply. "And you should do that soon. We are running out of time."

The transmission was interrupted then. Dean shook his head. He was beginning to get worried about this get-Raphael-at-all-costs thing that Castiel had going on. Not that he did not symphatise and he did indeed wanted to get the talisman if it really was going to work. But sometimes the whole thing made him uncomfortable.

"I wonder if Cas knows what a Vorlon looks like outside his encounter suit," Sam said musingly.

Dean snorted.

"Well, with the way he's been acting when he mentions Vorlons, I wouldn't be asking him that, if I was you," he advised.