Babylon 5: Perdition and Vindication

by LordWinter13

This fanfiction is an AU of the setting, where a rival race to the Minbari survived the Shadow War and have been in a player in the galactic game for a century. Now, as the Second Shadow War looms, how will members from this ancient race effect the future on B5? Will be starting from the show's very beginning but will not gloss over vitals. OCs by the bushel, OCs by the pound!

1. Chapter 1

Babylon 5: Perdition and Vindication

"Oh shit! Marines! Pull back!"

Private Benjamin Jakaecado was shaken from his stupor when the building he and his unit were in shook from a nearby impact. Blinking away his conscious, shocked reverie, he refocused on the sounds of artillery hitting the Drazi colony the Two-Twenty-Third Infantry Strikeforce were sent to defend from Dilgar invasion.

Benjamin felt a kind of numbness as he blankly looked forward, leaning ahead slightly in a crouched position.

'I'm gunna fraggin' die here... ', Benjamin concluded, a sickly, sour root dug into his stomach, and he wrenched forth with a massive gag, a burst of pale, brown fluid flew out of his mouth and onto the floor.

"Ah! Frag's sake!" Lan cursed in his thick North American accent nearby.

"Okay, buddy, hold on." A gruff, though distinctly feminine, voice sighed.

Benjamin felt an arm fold around his midriff, where he felt a sharp jab on his upper right arm. "What the hell?!" He demanded, turning towards the medic, mind suddenly sober from not only the pain but the warmth of whatever the hell she gave him flowing in his veins.

The medic shook her head, "Relax! Think of it like dramamine, we don't want ya puking your guts out on us when we're just starting to win!" She grabbed Ben's shoulder and shook him, "Hey, after this, someone's gunna pop that cherry of yours for sure, private!"

The cliché damn near finished the job that the shot tried to prevent.

After the injection, Ben's mind didn't really get what she was saying, only thinking over and over in a quickness that only compounded his dullness to the physical world; 'Get out of here, get home, get out of here, get home…' All he could see in his mind's eye was the shuttle flying into the habitat's bay, taking the 'rail to his neighborhood, opening the door and- SLAP! Ben grabbed at his cheek.

"Wake up, dipstick!" Sergeant Lan screamed in Benjamin's face, "We're movin' out!"

He didn't think much of much after that, he followed his platoon as they crossed a tower, exposed themselves over one of the building's uncovered bridges that led to one of the neighboring high-rising buildings, then took cover in a weird roomy, partially ceilinged terrace. By the time they settled some, Ben couldn't help but wonder, "How many drazi lived here?"

"Too many." Someone muttered before adding, "Hey, less ugly in the universe at least!"

Said GROPO's head was smacked by someone nearby. "Don't worry, private, a lot got out 'fore the Dil got here."

"Where are the bodies, sir?" Someone else asked out.

"Shut the frag up!"

Someone else spoke, "Some bio-weapon probably! Look at the nitrogen levels, something must've eaten 'em and-!"

"If you don't shut up, I'll shoot ya before you even see a Dilgar!" One of the COs demanded before continuing his talks with the circle of commanders.

Benjamin felt his gut lift in his throat right before whatever he was injected with stopped it and stomped it down his gullet, "Okay…" He whispered quietly, "Get out, get home…" He repeated verbally, trying to focus on the task at hand: secure this world, get the frag out of here.

It helped especially when a Sergeant First-Class demanded in the oh so familiar tone of an experienced drill-instructor; "Private! Get your fraggin' thumb out your ass and move downstairs!"

Doing as his superior ordered out of sheer instinct, he managed to hear over the coms through some lighter static, "We gotta Dilgar Undraka corvette coming down through the south se-!" Before being cut off by a screeching, wailing sound like a banshee.

As the unit made it down stairs to the base of the alien building, he spotted a Captain almost screaming at the tech he was talking to, "You're telling me that a Dilgar corvette is coming down ontop of us, is scrambling our communications and you don't recognize the signal?!"

"Y-Yes sir, whoever's jamming us isn't using Dilgar frequencies!"

Sergeant Lan ran over to the pair, "Maybe it's one of ours? The lazy ass reinforcements finally got here?"

"Uhhh wouldn't make sense for our guys to bleach our signals with the baddies. Maybe it's another league race coming to help?"

As Jakaecado looked outside through the glassless window, he spotted, barely a blip and must have been a part of the weird cloud coverage of the planet, parting the grey skies. Had to have been a few hundred klicks away, but that thing was getting closer, fast. "Oh frag! Hey! We got a bogey incoming!"

Before he muttered the last syllable, a flurry of orders were being bellowed by the command staff. Marines with heavy weapons were positioning themselves on the window, mixed between Trail-Company heavy plasma rifles and isotope rocket-launchers, Jakaecado and the other grunts with their comparable pea-shooter PPGs were hunkering down, bracing themselves for possible bombardment. Regardless of the heat the GROPOS themselves carried; they knew they wouldn't be able to even annoy the corvette with what they had before they turned the section of city they were into slag. The orders given and the professional adherence to them, all a mix of muscle memory and a need to focus away from the possibility that they may well be dying in a few seconds, the need to focus on something, anything, other than their immediate doom.

As the Dilgar ship came to hover over the colony, the garish yellow-orange, smoothed, arched, teardrop afixed in the middle of a horseshoe warship then pointed up towards the sky it just came from, causing a quiet ruckus of confusion to burst over the hush of grim apprehension. Why would the Dilgar enter atmo, take up position over their objective and neither open fire on possible targets or discourage enemy forces?

"T-They using us as a shield? Must be a league fleet in orbit!" The com officer exclaimed, "They wouldn't open fire on the Dilgar if they risk hitting allied forces in the colony!"

There were mumbles of agreement towards the theory, but they were silenced as the Undraka began firing its arrays of weapons, bolts of plasma piercing the cloud cover, opening narrow holds in the sky as it fired on unseen enemies, possibly over a hundred kilometers from the surface of the planet. The usual silence of plasma weaponry in space being replaced by deafening roars in atmosphere, burning and screeching through the air. Could the bolts even survive long enough in atmo to reach a target in orbit? Sure, the Undraka were made for both space and planetside action but were far from a planetary defense battery.

Benjamin barely could withstand the ear-splitting weapon fire, but its sudden silence was even more cutting. Believing they had either hit their target or their weapons overloaded, he tried to focus past his budding dim of tinnitus, "They moving?" He asked no one in particular.

If anyone had given orders, no one in the vicinity could hear them, with some marines taking a further look outside, the artillery shelling stopping as well, no longer feeling the shaking of the ground.

Jakaecado, in all his limited wisdom, mimicked the observation. What were they expecting to see? The Dilgar to remember the forces beneath them, opening fire on their position in one last, ear piercing barrage before they all were sent to Saint Peter? The shapes of those newly minted Drazi Sun-Hawks coming to meet the Dilgar in a knife fight on the planet before they retook their colony and saved all the Two-Twenty Third's asses?

They saw neither of the sort.

Like the coming of night, the swiss-cheesed clouds above turned greyer and then a sullen black, even as the light of day pierced all the rest of the air above them. The shape was, at first, shapeless, a blob of shadow, but as the seconds passed, the newcomer vessel took on the distinct vessel of a long, boxy polygon, almost thinking to himself he was dead as it took on a more coffin shape, his brain suffering from somekind of dying hallucination and death was finally starting to become a reality in his oxygen deprived brain.

Then a flock of screeching arrowheads scorched through the clouds beneath the coffin-ship, perfectly in delta form as they burned their path to the Dilgar ship in flashes of violet fire. When the plasma bursts impacted the ship, it shored off whole sections, some piercing through the vessel and to the world beneath. Turning about, another pair of alien ships came, larger than the fighters, but far smaller than the ominous coffin ship arriving, having a larger rear bulk-block then the elegant, piercing, three-sided dagger like nose, far more makeshift in their appearance. As the Dilgar had begun to pick up speed, the twin vessels shot forth an array of cables from the rear as they passed the rear-ventral section, steadily turning the ship as they passed over the vessel, driving the corvette planetside with its own gaining velocity.

Just as the day couldn't get any weirder, the coffin finally began to break cloud coverage. The vast, bronze like metallic surface covering the 'crypt-ship' raised ventral section, numerous ports and openings spilling forth a slew of shuttle craft and pods towards the colony. The ship itself was still groaning towards the ground, not only being immensely wide, but vertically tall, could challenge the alien skyscrapers that were posted all over the alien colony like tall trees in a vast garden. While Jakaecado himself felt a pocket of relief in his chest that the Dilgar were taken care of, a blossom of terror in his heart began to flower in uncertainty. Who or what were these new guys? If they were league, they would have recognized that troops were groundside, but their fighters opened fire regardless and the dragging of the Dilgar corvette did insurmountable damage. They seemed more interested in keeping the ship intact then leaving the colony's infrastructure unblemished, contrasting the Dilgar who went out of their way to preserve colonies, cities and habitats.

Just as the shocked silence began to creep into sinister stillness, the structure they were hiding in shook violently. "Everyone out! NOW!" It didn't matter which mouth it came from, the fear that had been building up in them all suddenly exploded in a frenzied, barely coordinated bolt out of the building, some gunners taking up points to ensure covering fire for their comrades as they retreated. What was truly the most terrifying aspect not being what they saw, but what they heard. The newcomer's landing craft crashing into the street, and buildings both ahead and behind them, and especially where the Dilgar troopers were entrenched in the colony. He heard yells in alien languages, weapons fire, then screaming, yelling and a bizarre set of vocals, deep and booming but mottled by distortion or electronics, and whenever the aliens spoke it sent a chill up his spine, spurring Jakaecado and his fellow ground pounders down the streets at a faster pace. They just needed to find a good place to hole up and coordinate when the relief fleet arrives. Knowing the war, there must have been another fleet just around the corner.

"Over there! That next right should head to an underground!" The captain yelled over increasingly desperate breaths. They were all getting tired, nearly fifty-hours of getting goosed by constant dilgar attacks, and now this.

'Just give me a break. Just once!' Jakaecado prayed mentally.

Before the platoon even reached the escape they hungered for, a Dilgar War-Chariot, effectively a small arms platform on a hover-engine, burst out of the opposing corner, followed by a brigade of Dilgar soldiers. They were so distracted from what they were running from, that they only noticed the humans when they were being fired upon by them.

Jakaecado gave a panicked pot shot at a Dilgar, armored from head to toe in orange metals and ceramics before the Dilgar started to realize who they were running into and returned fire, panicking from the enemies behind them and the enemies ahead.

The marine just ran back, bolts of phased plasma searing and cracking the asphalt near him, dashing through the window. As he looked back, the War-Chariot was suddenly and violently launched back into the opposing building by a burst of teal fire that exploded out the front of the platform, the riders either being thrown out out or getting blown up.

"Holy-Frag-Th-!" The private swore quickly, stopped by the fact that the Dilgar had the same idea of huddling into the nearest building, namely his own.

Jakaecado didn't register anything further, just ran up the fragging building as hard and fast as he could. Eventually, both his debilitated endurance mixed with the undoubtedly stronger than human standard gravity forced him to retreat and hide in one of the rooms. Coming across an array of short tables, lined in perfect rows, separated by blocks of stone, the tables having a mix of broken electronic equipment or paper covering them. Even in his exhausted state, he asked aloud, "The fraggin' Drazi work in cubicles too?" Groaning at the mundaneness, that despite being literally worlds apart, and having no familiarity in a genetic or cultural sense, aliens also had desk jobs and office buildings.

Not that that sounded too bad, in hind sight. Getting a lazy, mundane, brain rottenly boring job at his home habitat sounded extremely preferable to getting vaporized. Benjamin took a couple of breaths, pulling his Westinghouse PPG to his shoulder and mumbled as he scanned behind him, "Join the Marines they said… the only action you're remotely going to get is pirates and raiders they said." Finding that he was alone, with no sign of neither friend nor foe, he clicked the ComLink on his wrist, "Private Jakaecado reporting…" Pausing for a breath, "…am in a building a few meters where-" He was interrupted by the shrieking siren jamming signal through his communication equipment, quickly silencing it before someone nasty heard.

Giving a sigh of relief from the silence, he started to pace back towards the stairs, all his senses attuned to react to the slightest oddity or sound. At least ones in front of him.

A pair of Dilgar were screaming bloody murder, crashing through the opposing wall to the stair that was shattered by a volley of plasma fire. Jakaecado fell straight on his gut, rifle primed and started firing away. One of the Dils, the smaller of the two, was taken down in the first burst from him, the other didn't even respond to him, shooting down at where the human came in panicked shots, only spreading his fire lightly towards the GROPO attacker when it sprinted past him to the stair, going up.

"Fragger!" Jakaecado cursed, chasing after him. As they climbed the skyscraper, a breeze, brisk and chilling wafted through it. Night was coming. Seeing the Dilgar make out of the stair and into the floor, he gave chase, but gasped sharply as the Dilgar was pointing his weapon at Jakaecado.

It was the first time he saw one without their helmets on one, alive and on the field.. Human like, but only in a certain light. Eyes larger and more slanted, when he blinked, it creeped the human out, like its eyes were too large for the skull. Then there was the fuzzy, curly hair on the sides of his head while lacking any entirely on his brows. His eyes were scornful in panic, not just from that his rifle didn't fire, but the fact that Jakaecado was not who he was hoping to be. The Dilgar cursed and spat in his language, throwing the rifle he had down in livid disgust.

"Get down!" Jakaecado pointed his rifle at the Dilgar as it looked back and forth in the room.

The Dilgar was almost maddened in panic, trying to explain to the human in his bizarre language something, pointing at him then giving a sarcastic, bitter laugh, at least it sounded like it to him. A mix of fatigue and the impression that the Dilgar didn't want to actively harm Jakaecado, forced the human to put up a hand, though still keep his rifle more or less pointed at him on his hip, "Whoa, whoa pal. Time out, what are those things?" 'Definitely lack of oxygen to the brain, this asshole won't understand the question.'

At first the cat-man was going to respond, whether it was to his question or not, was beyond him. As he opened his mouth, however, he looked passed Jakaecado, eyes widening in horror and as it began a panicked syllable, a flash of red seared behind the human towards the frantic Dilgar, dropping him where he once stood. It was not the traditional death of a PPG round, as a spike of searing, red glowing metal smoked out of the Dilgar's chest.

Jakaecado didn't breathe as he heard the brief chatter of the newcomer alien electronic garble directly behind him. His heart picked up speed, his fight or flight responses screaming every which way, but that tingle of curiosity stayed his feet, that bizarre, human element that wanted to look back, that aspect that pushed his ancestors from pastoral societies to empires, towards distant continents then finally the stars, and looking to the void between them, made him stay.

But God help you when that void looks back.

Jakaecado didn't ditch his rifle as he turned back, he was likely going to die anyways and his body subconsciously knew and wouldn't let go of it.

What he saw made him shutter slightly, either from being able to put a face on the aliens or from his body succumbing from the need of air, he couldn't tell.

They were armored, head to… he wanted to say toe, but looking at the end of the limb, noted not only were their bow legged, or what scientific name there was for running-mammals, but they ended in what appeared like… hooves?

The armor was a plasticky matte black, having a mix between some gold markings, and several red. Their… helmets? Visors? Were thin, lean and pointed, like a hawk beak, three pairs of slit, scooping eyes running from a center gem giving an alien, predatory visage. Despite the terror the aliens inspired in him, one of them was just barely Jakaecado's own height, if even that and he was far from a giant and the other with the Red-Bar was far shorter, almost to the middle of his own chest and he wondered if they were even the same species. In their hands, one held a rifle, the other a pistol, but they both had the element of covering the knuckles like the guard on some ancient rapier from Earth.

One, having a solid bar of red over his helmet's eyes, turned its head slightly to the other, the loud muffle of electronically distorted communication, and both paused.

The rifled one, seemingly a lesser to Red-Bar, lowered its rifle, stood straighter (having only noticed its slight hunch as it pointed its rifle), extending a hand slowly to the human's weapon.

Jakaecado was frozen stiff, only noticing the alien's digits that grasped his weapon as it was taking out its power core and opening the rifling line.

Red-Bar gave a loud bark of electro-garble towards the human, pointing straight down at his feet with the free hand.

Jakaecado knew he did a little better then ordered, because before he bent his last knee in a submissive position, his vision began to blur and fade, all sound was… muffled and he toppled over, not really feeling the impact as he did so.

Was he passing out?

That must be it. Or one of the alien freaks shot him.

Either way, he was getting some rack time. 'Bout damn time.' He thought to himself.

He didn't know how long he was out, felt like a long time when his eyes were forced open, felt like trying to pry open an old cabinet, sealed in rust.

The first sliver that Jakaecado recognized as consciousness was being dragged by his legs across a rough, slick surface. He sighed quietly as his head felt like a mag-train fell on it, trying to reach up with a hand not only brought the other up with it, but sent a pain so sharp up his legs that it forced a pitiful groan out of him, despite his delirium.

The pain did have the bonus of managing to wake up him a bit more, quickly opening his eyes, but keeping calm when he saw nothing from a tightly spun fabric covering his face after he calculated a number of factors; both his hands and legs were bound, he was in the hands of an enemy as a possible POW, and lastly considering how frigidly cold his back was, there was the distinct possibility he was stripped.

"Sec-abht. Kal-oo ah'im. Hoomam, stata. Tatamai-toom kalialim" The voice sounded feminine, either that or high pitched. Before he could truly calculate an escape plan, someone hoisted his legs up, there was a mechanical click, then he was suddenly hanging upside and brought up a few feet, the brace at his leg firing its pain-induction device from the commotion and forced Jakaecado to reveal to his captors he was fully awake with a scream. His captors pulled off the cover, but couldn't see much of anything at first, the room was dimly lit and his eyes had to adjust.

The alien in question had on a blocky mask that covered the mouth, nose and eyes completely, where the only visible signs of flesh were at their forehead and neck. What was familiar and more chilling about his captor was that it had hair, tied off into a bun or knot at the top, it was eerily human in appearance. The alien proceeded to lightly slap the side of his face, as if getting his attention, "Frag you! Get me down you sack of shit!" A mechanical voice emanated from somewhere in the room, when it was done talking, the alien chortled. Taking up a block, holographic sigils glowing on its surface and spoke to it in. 'Recording device?'

"Hoomam, amhl-da-ha, ba-vuj gafa." Drawling on and on to the device as the alien walked around his dangling form. It seemed less like an interrogation and more like that week in boot camp where he and his training battalion were going through medical testing, physicians checking them out and giving them their boosters, shots and making sure their health was up to snuff.

He was brought out of his remembrance when the alien, whom was behind him and out of view, smacked his ass. This made Jakaecado's eyes widen in complete shock, trying to wriggle back and forth to get his rear out of this freak's view, "Wh-What the frag are you doing you son of a bi-! AAAHH!" The restraints began sending painful induction of agony up and down his spine. This was happening for so long and so intensely, he thought he was going to pass out again. Sweat was swimming down his body despite the cold, his mouth was wet from excess drool and his eyes were watery. As he was lazily looking down from his meat hook, and saw a couple of drops of blood falling off of him to the floor, he was a bit more concerned, looking back up at his body and seeing a pair of punctures, one in his left thigh, another in his lower left chest, and as he moved his gaze at his own dangling body could feel the sharp, wet sting of something on his neck. They must have made those punctures while he was busy yelling his ass off from the pain. The alien continued its business, not fazed in the slightest by the agony of its quarry, nor its desire to relieve itself, eat, drink and get right side up before he passed out from all the blood going to his head for too long.

He then saw one of the doors open at the sides of the room, a trio of figures walking into sight. Two were familiar, though considering the armor that hid everything from sight, they may in fact not be the Red-Bar and Rifle-Bearer he remembers so vividly. The third is the one that took most of his attention, being not only a giant compared to the other two, but looked like it was ripped straight out of a paleontologist's whimsical scrap book. Its maw was open slightly, a reptile's mouth rowed with dagger like teeth, beady eyes shifting and head fidgeting in slight, jerking movements, making its neck 'fat' shake slightly, nostrils flaring and audibly breathing heavily in the room, one hand clasping an orb, while the other had a hand on the bottom of an equally large pistol holster at the hip, and at first Benjamin thought he was looking at a tail behind it, but was shocked when it moved and stomped with the rest of its legs. The giant, tripodal lizard-alien spoke, a guttural, harsh and utterly horrid sounding tongue, where the orb in its hand glowed and began speaking in the more common and far less severe lingo. The alien that had been attending to him the past few minutes, 'Doctor-Dick sounds like a good name' he thought, began talking to Red-Bar. Red-Bar didn't respond, but gave a short bowing of its head, pacing over to Jakaecado's front. The idea that if the alien got close enough he'd try pissing on them tickled Jackaecado more than was healthy. Really tap into those simian instincts. He'd likely get in a good laugh out before he died.

Not that he was given much opportunity, another guest arrived, far louder than even the croco-saur on legs over here. Its face covered in a similar contraption as Doctor-Dick, speaking loudly, one could almost say obnoxiously. When one replied, the new guy took off its mask with an audible clink with it landing on the floor without further care for it. He didn't get a good look at any of these guys with the minimal lighting in the room, coming only from thin, orange lights at the top of the room, and apart from the t-rex on hominoid-steroids, were mostly wearing articles of clothing or armor that hid most of their body, but when this alien proceeded over, he got a decent look of one. Again, disturbed by the humanness, this one had curves, specifically hips and he was getting an eyeful, noting she was donning what must have been a body-glove of some kind, maybe something they all have before getting in an EVA suit or that battle armor. This one had visible patches, cuts and pieces of metal attached at the collar bones and legs, and was able to definitely see the perches of what was most probably mammary glands. The worst bit was what was after the boobs, Jakaecado had an image in his head what the aliens looked like without the helmet. Despite the lack of exact details, he was thinking some disgusting, bat-creature, weird nosed, venom drooling freak. Mostly just from the lack of lighting, although at this rate if he was a betting man, he would take what dignity he had left from all the wrong choices he's been making so far.

Besides not seeing any ears, the aliens looked like a normal, goddamn home grown human in the face and body. Apart from the hooves and weird legs bit. Seeing teeth past smiling lips and the shape of eyes where they normally are and the dent of a nose, but was difficult to make out precise attributes from the dim room. 'Oh shit, am I in Hell? Should have gone to church with my cousin. Guess mama was wrong.' The recent bits of torture didn't help dissuade this theory either.

Cutting off his thoughts when she pulled out a knife and grasped one of his thighs. "FRAG! WHA-!?"

Just as the cold metal touched the flesh of his leg, Red-Bar angrily began barking at the knife-holder, stopping the alien from carving him up. They began yelling back and forth, louder and louder, before knifey tried to pull out something, the human in the room barely registering the move from how dark and how freaking fast it was, knifey hit the floor, a pistol tumbling onto the ground with searing, spikes of metal jutting from her chest and stomach.

Benjamin was completely out of his element, shocked beyond words or thoughts, staring at the newly made corpse.

Red-Bar holstered his own, steaming pistol, said something to the man-lizard, where it took out a golden cube with a hole in its center, gave it to the armored executioner, Red-Bar then swung it down sharply and deployed an axe from the cubicle object.

Red kicked the body of knifey over some, and as Ben watched in horrific fascination, brought the axe down, once… twice, on her neck, decapitating her and taking the head in hand.

Ben heaved and then vomited at the sight and being upside down didn't help his passing what remained of his food.

He either passed out again or was in shock, everything passing in a blur. Doctor-Dick was humble in the examination, almost careful with him, at least in comparison to the body still in the room, blood pooling on the ground. When she, assuming by the voice at least, nearly tripped from it, she muttered something and kicked the body in what looked like frustration or anger, before grabbing it by the fatigues and dragging it to the side of the room so she won't have to worry about mishaps.

Doctor-Dick jerked on the cuffs behind his back, the pain bringing him back to reality. Or she was making certain he was secure, which makes sense, due to the meat-claw that has left him dangling for likely hours began to slowly lower, forcing him to achingly bend his back up, not wanting to go face first into the mixed puddle of alien life-fluid and his up-chucked meal stewing on the surface.

He pushed up with his legs and side of his head into a kneeling position, where Doctor-Dick grabbed him by the shoulder and pressed something, no bigger than a marble, against the side of his neck feeling something cold burning like some dry ice, before it crawled almost completely around his nape. "What the hell did you…?" He was surprised again, when Doctor-Dick tried to get behind him again, "Whoa! Not letting you get back there again, you had your freebee." Quickly turning around and backing away from her.

Doc then sighed, stopped and pressed her wrists together in front of her, then pulled them apart, pointing with both of her hands towards Ben.

He, with no small tint of paranoia, slowly turned around and presented his cuffed hands. "Restraints or no…" He growled lowly in hopes that he was understood.

Ignoring his threat, several keys were typed, and the irons dropped to the ground with a satisfying clunk. He sighed in relief as he moved his arms back and forth, up and down, all the directions of the rainbow, mostly for killing time however, as he was already thinking of an escape using Doc as a hostage. Unless these aliens dropped a prefab base onto the colony, he was likely on their ship, which added a whole assortment of problems. 'First Contact protocols be damned,' he thought, 'escape is the priority of any prisoner.' Just as he had mustered enough courage and got the Doc good and bored, having started to approach, the door whipped open and the giant dino-alien walked in. Ben paused mid step as it stared at him, the thought it recognized him approaching the other alien in a way that could be a move into attack and was thinking of what to do. Jakaecado saw the lizard-thing retrieve the orb it used to speak to others, grunting and growling its profane language, while Doctor-Dick and the handheld translator spoke back to each other in tongues touched with honey in comparison. Finally, when their conversations were completed, the lizard-man strode across the room with a quickness that belied its massiveness, Benjamin's body still in held in pause stemmed terror as the tripod headed straight for him, placing a huge, six digit hand on his shoulder and nearly throwing him in the direction of the door way.

Abandoning what he was focused on in an instant, due in no small part to his over active imagination of what'll Croc over here will do if he doesn't do as he was commanded. Keeping his eyes fixed completely forward, not back towards the alien as he walked into the equally dim corridor, seeing Red-Bar immediately to the right of the passage and freezing, long enough for Croc to follow Ben out, blocking both paths of the passageway. Red-Bar clicked a button on its suit's wrist area and spoke slowly, voice no longer garbled in electronic distortion and as feminine as those he's heard from the others of her kind, but the computer shone letters he briefly couldn't recognize, but then warped into clearly legible English. 'Follow me - No harm' It read. Turning and walking down the corridor. For his momentary hesitation, the lizard-alien behind him gave a rumbling, growl-hiss and he was quickly running pace right behind Red-Bar.

After an uncomfortable and unproductive silence following the alien wordlessly, Benjamin finally asked, "My company, strikeforce, were they destroyed?"

Looking back at him a second, Red-Bar did not reply, continuing to march forward.

Despite the frustration that was growing in Benjamin's bowls, he restrained himself from verbally escalating his question, knowing two-fold that she wouldn't understand it, and the lizard behind him would possibly take his louder words as a threat and eat him, or something.

However, as they passed a porthole out to open space, or more accurately hyperspace, Red-Bar spoke out, not presenting her wrist computer to him. Assuming correctly, behind Jackecado, croco-saur's booming voice shook the human's very bones.

Despite the less then enjoyable conversation between the aliens, he paused in his annoyance for a moment, wide eyed not only from the change in plans of his escape from being slim to impossible, but also from an image inside the ship-board window, viewing the red, crazed haze that was hyperspace, but what truly took his attention was the massive ship they were approaching, far larger than any vessel he's seen, even larger than the Kennedy, Earth's oldest and largest stellar-habitat, could only be a twentieth of the behemoth they were closing in on, and how it simply grew even larger sent a chill down his spine.

'Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.'

[][][]]

It was the dawn of the third age of mankind – ten years after the Earth-Minbari War.

The Babylon Project was a dream, given form. Its goal: to prevent another war, by creating a place where humans and aliens can work out their differences peacefully. It's a port of call – home away from home – for diplomats, hustlers, entrepreneurs, and wanderers.

Humans and aliens, wrapped in three million, seven hundred thousand tons of spinning metal . . . all alone in the night.

It can be a dangerous place, but it's our last, best hope for peace.

This is the story of the last of the Babylon stations. The year is 2257. The name of the place is Babylon 5.

[][][

Earth Date: May 22nd 2257

Babylon 5- Epsilon Eridani

"Ah!" Abe Jones exclaimed as he exited disembarkation and entered Babylon 5 proper, seeing a human nearly half his height and age holding a sign with his name. Walking over to the woman, he smiled, "I assume you are to help me to getting to the ambassador?"

She nodded and smiled, "Yes, my mistress will be pleased that your transport arrived early." Gesturing past the commons with a wave, "We can head there immediately if you desire, or depart for the quarters we've arranged for your stay."

"I'll sleep when I'm dead," He smiled, "I'm excited to start business as soon as possible."

As he was guided towards the station's rail system, he inquired, "You have a name?"

"Of course!" His guide replied happily, but didn't continue.

Fearing some kind of miscommunication, Abe grimaced, "Uh mind telling me?"

Her features scrunched in confusion, "Why my name? I am unimportant to your visit here, you are here for my mistress."

Abe sighed slowly, "Well, humans have this quark of curiosity." 'Something you seemed to have lost to your alien slave masters.' He refrained from saying and worded it differently, "I am merely intrigued by you, this should not be too large of a distraction from my purpose here."

She looked about for a moment, unbalanced, maybe even a confused by this, but then smiled up at him and said, "My name is Nala."

Abe smiled to his named company, gesturing forward with an arm as the lift came to a stop, "After you, Nala."

She continued guiding him through Green Sector but was tangled slightly from his escort. She was human. No, a human slave. Middle-eastern descent by the looks, with swarthy skin and tar black hair tied back into a long pony tail with a trio of separate, golden hoops, brown eyes that seemed closer to completely black above a small, button nose.

Somehow, through one means or another, the representative of the Tatamai Confederacy he was to have an appointment with had a slave of the species that built the facility that they now work upon. Abe heard of this ambassador having one such servant, but it was quite the other experience to be in the presence of her. It was repulsive, and he feared that the appearance of joy or happiness she exuded was a painfully disciplined front or if she was indeed, somehow, content from his position. Neither seemed better or worse than the other.

Maybe he should bring it up? Abe considered it but only lightly. The Tatamai ambassador and Abe are to be talking of trade and migration rights between the Confederacy and the Earth Alliance, so why not try to free a human child from the yoke of alien subjugation and back in the arms of her own people? She was a full-fledged adult, and if she applied herself and coupled with her own experiences with aliens, he had little doubt that the Alliance wou-

"Here we are, sir. My mistress is inside, have a pleasant stay." Nala gestured to the door before bowing at the waist and then quickly leaving before he could ask any more questions.

He sighed, anxious of the appointment. Abe was only passably familiar with Tatamain culture and customs, fearful to offend or discomfort these aliens. Nevertheless, he had an appointment to keep and a mission to complete. He pressed a yellow key next to the door's IDent reader and heard a quick, "Enter!"

The door sliding open, and Abe quickly entering it, ignoring the cold sweat gathering, and his nice, new suit sponging the liquid. Abe was bewildered by what he saw, or more specifically, what he didn't see. The light from the corridor leaking into the pitch-dark room only momentarily before the door slid closed and darkness swallowing him and what little he could see of the Tatamai's Quarters. A brief pair of white-orange orbs lingered, almost glowing in the dark, a strange reminder to the dog he had as a child, the eye-shine the alien briefly bore disappearing with the light before he heard the voice continue with: "I am pleased at your haste." A woman spoke, though Abe couldn't see the speaker. "Care for a drink?"

"I would but I can't even see the person I'm talking to, taking a glass would be bit more difficult." Only beginning to adjust to the pitch, seeing vague shapes in the room and the occasional mote of movement, but finally managing to lock onto the small embers of eyeshine he saw soon after entering.

"Ah yes! My apologies. Computer, increase room illumination to standard."

The lights of the quarters quickly sprung from tar-blackness to blinding brightness, taking a moment to once again adjust to the room's luminance. Once he did, Abe breathed in relief and then in surprise. He expected only one other in the room but looked upon two. One large, clothed from head to 'toe' in armor plates held together with tightly woven leather fabrics, and an aloof, oppressive presence unable to see a face from his menacing, golden horned battle helm, arms crossed and his presence radiated focus and lethality. The other was far smaller, wearing a rather intricate dress that carried a warmth and grace to the human, revealing the generous cleavage of its wearer whom was smiling from ear to ear, so to speak as her ears were covered in black hair. The fairer, smaller of the two would have easily been seen as human to him if she was seen out of the corner of his eye; her skin tone of a coffee brown, 'Not much different then the people back home!' Abe thought in that instance. She was smiling with full lips, an adorable snub nose, mixed in with thin, almond eyes on top of a diamond shaped face.

These qualities were quickly swamped by the clear, utterly inhuman aspects of the one whom he could see completely. She, as well as all other Tatamai there are the 'blackened' eyes that. They weren't completely black like the Vree's, although at first glance one wouldn't usually consider the contrary, but as he looked into her face a moment, could see the edges of dark sclera meet warm, tanned-leather irises, then pupils within, but above those eyes and eyebrows rested two small horns near her eye brows, near the hair line, pearly bone that was evenly maintained to give only a slight point as they extended just over an inch from her head. She approached, extending a hand towards Abe, the man noting that her dress, while pretty revealing from the waist up, seemed to actively hide her legs and feet, only recalling them from the cloven hooves clapping against the metal floor. "I am Anaherin Oln Tui, member of the Red-Star Cabal, answerable to the Ilway and his elect, the Fifteen-Devara and speaker for my people's wills and ambitions."

Abe paused only a moment, but quickly adjusted, "Uh call me Abe." Taking her hand and giving a firm shake, slightly distracted by the rough, sandpaper like texture of the surface of her hand. "Got any liquor that won't kill a human?"

"I may have something around here."

Abe has never seen an Tatamai in person before, though he's watched a lot of interviews and Earth Alliance ceremonies with them after the Minbari-War. The click-clopping of Tatamai feet were audible from the woman walking to a table with sets of elevated displays that showed off colorful bottles of varying fullness, but instead of going for the beverages clearly in view, she hunched down slightly, opening the lower cabinet.

As she did so, Abe began to look around the alien inspired quarters, noting on the far wall lay seven tablets of metal, iron he assumed from their grey colour, maybe half his own modest height, written in alien glyphs and imagery, all aligned across the wall. Vast lengths of crimson silk were laced across the walls and ceiling, reminding him of depictions of large tents from Earth antiquity. Abe's observations were halted when he met the 'guardian's' gaze, black eyes boring into his own, seemingly haven't having left his vision since Abe had entered the place. The man was bald, and his gilded elaborate, horned helmet mostly just covered his face and top of his head, leaving the sides and neck exposed. This fully showed him the ears of the alien, starting like where human ears are, but the lobes don't exist, and the ear's helix pointing upwards, close to the head, the cartilage finely pointed, like the ears on a cropped dog's. He looked more like the Minotaur from the Labyrinth then the Tatamai he just met.

"The trip here was an acceptable one, I hope?" Being snapped from his observations when presented a glass by Anaherin.

"Uh yes. The transport was coming straight here, took only three days. Asimov classes are comfortable starliners." Unintentionally continuing his description of the species, only managing to grasp the glass of… "What is this exactly?"

"Brandy. Human-made."

Sipping gingerly from the beverage, Abe hissed lightly at the fruity orange bite, noting she likely got the lower end stuff, but wasn't sure if it was due to frugality or lack of knowledge in such concoctions. "Thank you very much. None for yourself?"

"Certainly not!" She waved a hand, "Even if we could get past the taste; human and Centauri quantities of alcohol will make us severely inebriated then, possibly, die. It's borderline toxic to us." Gesturing to the other fellow in the room. "Oh! Forgive the delayed introductions… this lovely man here is my bodyguard. You have nothing to fear from him, neither in a political or physical sense. This guard and his temple are extremely loyal to their contracts."

"I see." Being guided to a large set of brown-leather furniture. It was similar, Abe thought, to a couch, but was in the middle of the room, had no back to rest on, instead having three posts separating the couch cushions. She sat down near one such column and lent the side of her body against it. "Please," she pats a cushion near her, "Sit."

Abe felt uncomfortable at the invitation, but bit down on his unease and forced himself to take the seat, taking a more plentiful sip of his brandy, no longer caring if the stuff would make him blind in one eye.

"While we wait, I can send for a meal. I would prepare food for you here, but I'm told that humans find Tatamai culinary standards to be bland of taste and a little undercooked." The ambassador gestured to the com panel on the opposing wall with one hand. "I desire your stay here to be as comfortable as possible."

'Little late to consider that.' Abe thought, fidgeting slightly against the furniture. "No, thank you. Food will just slow me down and, well, I enjoy having my dinner interrupted only as little as possible." Smiling politely at his host, before stumbling slightly against the couch-pillar, his glass slipping from his grasp, feeling a pique of fear and embarrassment from his clumsiness, looking back at the ambassador to see that she had caught the glass seemingly not a moment after his own slight fumbling, with only a thimble of its contents spilling onto the furniture.

"I assumed all humans can handle this shrak well." Anaherin spoke calmly, though there was a splash of humor in the tone, whether she believed he was already drunk or knew he merely made a clumsy blunder was unknown to Abe, whom was still shocked by the superior stock Tatamai speed and reflexes he had just witnessed. "You can finish it later, my friend." Leaning towards Abe as she placed the glass on a socketed ledge extending out of the pillar. Leaning in way to close for comfort to the human, as Abe's gaze was forced passed her face towards her body, being drawn to a heavenly bosom.

Even in a state of embarrassment, his body began to react from his arousal and remembering his professionalism, looked back up to the ambassador's face as she returned to her prior sitting position, asking, "If I may ask, ambassador," drawing upon memories of his elderly relatives to further mottle his irregular titillation, "why is the Tatamai Confederacy being so proactive with the Earth Alliance?" Making an honest question he and several colleagues have had for some time now and not merely making small talk.

"We desire… closeness. Is this such a bad thing?" Provocatively avoiding the question with one of her own while also nudging closer to the delegate on the couch.

'I swear, I saw this in a porno somewhere.' Abe thought to himself, giving a light cough to convey his unease, but knew instantly that the signal was lost to the alien or she ignored it entirely as she placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Ah, I am making you uncomfortable." She said after she squeezed down, retracting her hand and moving back to her prior position. "My apologies. You are a guest, and I have yet to fully familiarize myself with-"

"Personal space?" Abe interjected as a joke, but she flinched slightly and looked away.

"Human... ehm… comfort-customs? Things to do with body language as well as the little cultural separations of your people. Haven't had much to practice in this room and we know little of your ways so far."

"Well. If things go right for this treaty…" Abe took a few calming breaths and straightened his tie, smiling to the ambassador, "that will soon change. A lot of people have been looking forward to knowing the Tatamai more since the end of the Minbari War."

"Likewise from us." Anaherin smiled back, standing up from the couch, "Why ask about the rush of treaties?"

"It's unusual." Abe stood up as well, "Even the Centauri haven't been this productive with the Alliance, and we've been in contact for over a century. The Confederacy; only fifteen years."

"Well..." the Tatamai walked steadily back to the liquor cabinet, pouring a draft of milky, pink liquid in a slender cup. "… we've been gathering some information on your kind for some time and merely desire the safety of your people if they decide to venture into our territories. Besides," She turned, taking a sip from the glass, giving a sour expression from it before sighing, "humans have fascinated the Confederacy since maybe sometime before your war with the Minbari began." She explained happily.

"That why you bought one of us?" Abe asked aloud, and immediately regretting it.

Anaherin's face did not seem to change, in fact, sat rigidly and the gaze she had seemed to focus at and past her guest at the same time, "Nala's status as my property was an event of circumstances both bizarre and remarkably unprecedented in our history, no way related in any relation to this station nor official interactions between our people."

Abe lightly bit his bottom lip in thought, "Why not make it official? My people don't tend to desire uh 'closeness' if we can wind up in bondage, freedom is highly valued and gifting it to Nala would be received warmly."

"Ha!" Anaherin gave a small bark of laughter, "The fact I owned a slave at all is seen as poor form, regardless of her state of personal liberation. Besides, that young woman has known nothing but living with me, and through me, serving the Confederacy. Such lofty duty is hard sought after, I would not insult her by severing such responsibility."

Abe was more than a little tempted to verbally lash out, condemn such ideologies as tyrannical, barbaric, but stiffly clenched his jaw, "Something for another time, then? I'm certain it could be figured out and benefit both parties."

Anaherin briefly glanced to her bodyguard, before looking back at Abe, "I care little for 'benefit' to you, to me, when it comes to Nala, Nala herself and herself alone is my concern, I won't have her turned over to your people in a showy spectacle, that girl doesn't deserve such attention that would care for naught passed the moral or ethical extravaganza you humans are famous for displaying."

Abe's professional decorum momentarily broke as he let out a long, clearly agitated sigh from her words. "Of course." He forced out.

"The Confederacy is exceptionally taken with human culture," Anaherin smiled, "your 'films', alongside your musical prowess have spread like…" She paused, thinking. "what's the term you use when something spreads quickly and uncontrollably? Deals with groupings of your larger, oxygen producing flora suddenly combusting, a… 'forest'?"

"Trees? Um, spread like wildfire?" Abe asked, bewildered by her sudden confusion of terms.

"Yes!" Anaherin smiled broadly, "Your kind's entertainment has spread like wildfire! We'd be happy to have whoever would venture into the Confederacy but we most desire your musicians and performers, and the Fate Blessed Ilway himself is willing to negotiate monetary endorsements for such."

"We… that sounds very long term." Abe was trying to wrap his head around the amount of work that would take and didn't like the idea of these aliens they barely knew snatching away artists, big and small, from Earth in some kind of strange preoccupation. "I and my superiors were more expecting the more… basic stuff, forms of travel visas, the process of purchasing property between citizens, currency exchange rates, business-corporate relations and migration regulation."

"As you humans say, 'go big or go home'. I am more then happy to begin what you and yours expected when we are completed, but the duties given to me were of this specifically and shall be attended to first and foremost." Anaherin raised a hand to the nearby table, several stacks of data-slates and a series of data-crystals arrayed in a line. "As soon as one of the station command officers are available, we'll have it begin."

"Why not just do this between us? Why do we need a member of the command staff?"

"It's a traditional Tatamai policy, to have one of the executive agents or representatives of a station, ship or habitat oversee negotiation as formal recognition of another party, this is due to both the long history of ship-board living we've endured, insuring that nothing would be prescribed to place the vessel or its crew in possible danger, then there's a tiny religious element of having the lord of a territory or one of their envoys looking upon important meetings between groups, now I know how having religion in such formal affairs makes most humans uncomfortable, I assure you there isn't any praying or sacrifices, I already burned the incense for it, I'm sure the gods will understand my frugal piety when working on this station." Rolling her hand at the wrist, looking away as she wearingly finished describing the process. She lifted herself off the furniture and proceeded back to the tiny 'bar' she had and poured herself a draft of pink fluid in a long, slender glass. Anaherin looked to the other Tatamai in the room, "Jat-luum?"

"Kati-za." The man's voice boomed with the single exchange, either that or the fact Abe was hearing the insanely silent alien finally speak at all was somehow compounded by his own worry about the bodyguard.

"Uushk-Natamil briv-ahm hakimnl, Bo." Anaherin had a clearly annoyed tone, holding the glass up to the towering Tatamai.

"Tasht-Met…" He scoffed, looking to Abe before he clicked a button on his mask which released the hold of the gilded helm to its owners head, and as he looked upon the Tatamai's features was met by hooded, deep set globes and with the darker complexion of their eyes made the man seem almost eyeless, just two pits where nothing existed. Small rain drop shaped patches of hair were above the corners of thin lips, but almost mocking the mustache in both mass and neatness, his brows were thick and heavy, and these islands of facial fuzz were the sole remnants of hair on his head, scalp bare and without a single trace or bud of hair on top of his head. However, two white points, the sharp tips of his 'tusks' extending from his underbite laden chin, barely meeting his top lip. His skin was of a richer red, reinforcing the term 'devils' that was often used to describe the species during first contact, but where Anaherin's bony protrusions were noticeable, this one only had the small, flat disks at the scalp above his temples, either cut off or filed down, but for the reason of this, the delegate only theorized that it made wearing a helmet easier. Abe couldn't help but ponder the possibility that these aliens were indeed somehow related to the image of horned spirits, mischievous creatures from mankind's various religions and mythologies, as they were confirmed to be one of the older races in the galaxy, and it's often a subject of heated debate whether they were elder to the Minbari or if it was the contrary, that deep in the past that a few Tiatami visited humanity's home and left one lasting first impression. "I am Bouirm." The bodyguard spoke with a low, gravely voice and a deep accent that almost sounded russian to Abe's ears. "Am still in learning with Anglish, urr, English."

"Nobody's perfect." Abe offered back, and the Tatamai replied with a tiny grin, but Bourim's attention was brought to his employer as she presented the glass to him.

"We don't know how long we might be here, are you sure I can't tempt you with something to ea-?" Anaherin was interrupted by an alert from her communication console. "Ah! Excellent, that must be them now!"

Bourim downed the pink drink, placed the glass down not too far away and re-donned his golden helmet. Abe heard a stifled cough, the beverage either going down the wrong pipe or too strong for even the massive Tatamai to handle. "Will be out of sight." The bodyguard stated, moving to the side of the lavish quarters as his master made her way to the console.

"Commander Takishima!" Anaherin smiled broadly at the stations executive officer. "How are you doing today?"

"Ambassador." The Earthforce Lieutenant-Commander nodded to the Tatamai, and what little of her Abe could see from the screen, noticed her lips were a straight, professional line, and her gaze carried a kind of weary or discontent tone to it as she spoke further, "I will meet you at Green Seventeen."

Anaherin didn't seem to be offended by the lack of candor of her host and merely nodded back, "I'll bring the refreshments." The comm abruptly ended and the Tatamai sighed deeply, "I was hoping it'd be Sinclair."

Abe looked between her and the bodyguard, "Why is that?"

"This one and I have had an incident in the past, and I fear this station isn't big enough for the both of us." Anaherin looked to the bodyguard, "Bo, yuus-mayt Nala." Bourim nodded and left the ambassador's quarters without a word. "Care to escort me?" She bent her arm out, presenting it to him to hook his arm through and forced Abe to blink at the quaint gesture, uncertain if it was strictly a human behavior she had picked up on or if it was something that the Tatamai themselves also implemented.

Uncertain if deciding to keep what little professionalism he had left in this entire rendezvous and decline the offer might be seen as politically hazardous, or if accepting and continuing to extend this bizarre relationship with this alien to other strange though tamer territories. Capitulating, he slid his arm through her's and smiled, "Well, guess I'm following you then!"

As Abe looked down at Anaherin not only did his eyes get momentarily caught in the bristols, he was able to look more closely into her eyes, which had a knowing look about them as he did so, making his ears heat up sharply. It was far too easy to compare the Tatamai to goats, but looking into the eyes, may have been an accurate, though blunt comparison. While not so comparable, Abe saw that they were a tad more horizontal and made him wonder what evolutionary path created such both a familiar yet simultaneously quite alien species. "How long do you plan on staying on the station?"

"Earthgov hasn't given me a definite deadline, why?" They paced carefully out of her quarters, noting that despite her short stature, Abe was forcing himself to keep up more with her.

"I would feel it poor form if I couldn't treat you to this station's delights after the completion of your duties. While it indeed is a citadel of your homeworld, it has become something remarkable and unique, something no space fairing species and all their kindreds have formed."

"I… well, one thing at a time, no?" Abe offered carefully.

[][]

"Chief Garibaldi?"

Babylon-Five's security-chief tapped the top of his Link, "Go ahead." Looking over his desk's terminal as the officer continued.

"We've got another scuffle between one of the Minbari and a Tatamai, a Brakiri got his stall completely trashed and is demanding compensation. I'm bringing the two to the brig."

Garibaldi was close to cursing even over the open com, but bit the inside of his cheek hard enough that it postponed the impulse, "Anyone hurt?"

"Mostly the Tatamai, but she's refusing medical attention."

Minbari were strong, stronger than most humans which you wouldn't think just by looking at them. Tatamai were the opposite, they were nearly as strong as humans, and damn well faster, they aren't as tough as said talking apes and against a Minbari, they might as well have been made of paper mache. 'That Tatamai's lucky she isn't a smear on the wall.' Garibaldi sighed and stood from his desk, "I'll get the cells ready and notify their respective ambassadors, Garibaldi out." Clicking off his Link, "Delenn's just gunna love this…" The Minbari and the Tatamai have been at each other's throats more recently then usual, both in intensity and frequency that it almost matched Centauri-Narn violence. While issues had cropped up in the past, and both species clearly had a rivalry, certainly hating one another, they seemed to employ a decorum between one another that reminded Garabaldi of gangs or mafia's, then it dipped into that strange, preternatural attitude that seemed almost ritualistic, but then it fell even farther into a put of insanity with things he couldn't rightly describe, things completely alien to his experience. This sudden rise in violence made not only Garibaldi worried, but both Sinclair and Earthdome were starting to feel their neck hairs rise in anticipation of what will follow.

Clicking on his Link once more, ascertaining the location of both ambassadors, Delenn was in Customs in Red Sector and Anaherin was in Green, as the former was closer to where he was currently, sent another team to get the Tatamai representative, hopefully they'd get the Brakiri and couple other League of Non-Aligned World representatives to discuss the issue. Michael doubted it'd go smoothly, considering both politics and someone's pocket book were being put in the jar.

The ambassador, as far as Garibaldi could tell, was either showing another Minbari around the place or just catching her when she left her flight, either way he was about to interrupt what she was doing and went in as cordially as he could, "Ambassador?"

Delenn smiles warmly at the man, quickly introducing him to her company in their native language before she looked back over and bowed her head lightly, "How can I help you?"

"We've had another incident, Minbari with Tatamai, while there weren't any deaths, there was an injury and someone's stall getting messed up." Garibaldi licked his lips in thought, noticing they were suddenly dry as he asked, "What's been happening? We haven't ever seen you two get this tense with one another."

Delenn grimaced, "I fear it is a… delicate matter. While Babylon Five might be a forum of easing tension, there are something's neither party should involve your kind in."

"Well, whatever's happening, it's happening on our station. Maybe we can wave the olive branch here and see if we can get you and Anaherin at a table with Sinclair to talk about it, this is has gotten waaay out of hand." Garibaldi was very careful in how he worded this offer, "Besides, humans love poking where we ain't got no business."

Delenn smiles broadly and nodded, "I may have noticed." She gestured to the other Minbari whom bowed briefly to the ambassador before departing, allowing them more privacy in the busy customs area. "This… this enmity between the Tatamai and my people is somewhat a strange issue, I am certain the Confederacy's ambassador will agree, and we will make plans to mend our people to prevent further violence."

Garibaldi wasn't convinced in the least, tipping his head slightly in doubt, "Still, if there is any beef that has been building up between you guys, we need to know; we and all the other foreign nationals will be the first to suffer collateral damage if this escalates further."

The minbari thought on it for a moment before simply nodding, "Please." Pointing a hand towards the exit out of customs.

[]

"Really? That's what aliens think of us?"

The Tatamai smiled broadly, showing off her top rows of long, sharp teeth. "Of course! Your people speak mostly in similes, idioms and bizarre references. Why? Is it so hard to believe?"

Abe scoffed, "We're half-insane musicians?"

Anaherin hissed lowly in disagreement, "Poet, musician, jesters, the word is decently interchangeable. You are all so focused on your entertainments, your spectacles of both sight and sound. One looks at a narn, a centauri, a minbari, one often can get several impressions outright. Of course, there are always, always, outliers of action and thought that goes against the grain of what a group of people are expected to be, but with humans its very difficult to tack down those few traits that can be nearly universal. A minbari will be faithful, disciplined. A narn dedicated, willing to sacrifice for what they believe to be good. A centauri will be loyal, selfless and selfish both to themselves, an ideal or a group. Humans? You like your music, your acts of play, so much so that your speech has been grafted around them, old and young, with whole industries having been built around this obsession. Tatamai aren't exactly as creative and we aren't willing to put so much effort into sharing more and more complicated forms of entertainment when what we have is good enough to make us happy, but this trait is nonetheless compelling to us! We wish you to share your madness with us, your-" She was cut off as the door to the room was quickly opened and in strode the luitenant-commander, of whom both Takashima and Anaherin had exchanged a brief, icy glare against one another. "My dear Takashima!" Anaherin stood from her seat and presented steaming mug. "Tea?"

She rose her eyebrows slightly, "Depends, is it poisoned?"

"I wouldn't wish to provide you an early escape from your duties." Handing the glass over, where the human officer sighed and sniffed.

"Cinnamon?" Takashima asked, put off balance by the familiar scent.

"Personal favorite." Anaherin smiled as she sat down.

The commander shook her head lightly, "Hmm, no thank you, can we get started please?"

"As you wish." Anaherin gestured to Abe, whom gave Takashima a data pad to read over as they continued. "That will hold all information we've confirmed thus far, hopefully you can catch up with us?"

"Unfortunately, I will have to take my time. Who knows what small print you might have been able to slip past this bureaucrat? You already have one human slave; we don't need you having more."

"With all due respect, the technical term is 'indentured servant', and its been authorized by your Earth Alliance as long as the contract was not made under duress, your kind have made your stances on slavery as you understand the concept quite clear." Anaherin commented as she handed Abe a paper underlying certain issues with licensing and intellectual property, "What's this?"

"Oh boy…" Abe muttered to himself, "When you make something and its illegal for someone to copy or make a duplicate without your permission?"

Anaherin thought on it for a moment before nodding, "We don't have a word for that, but we understand it. There's… timing for it?" Pointing at the lengths of wording, "'The creator's life plus fifty years after their death'? That's uncharacteristically grim of you."

"How long do your people do it before it becomes public?"

"It never becomes publicly owned as you understand it, when one dies, it goes to next of kin or designated successor, but it becomes shared if they're a member of a Cabal and have neither of the aforementioned inheritors."

Abe nodded, "I've heard of these cabals of yours, they're family units? Households?"

Anaherin opened her mouth before closing it, rolling her jaw in thought, "It is… difficult to explain to outsiders, but it is this yes, but also more; people of great merit are often brought into a Cabal through either marriage, adoption or contracts. Confederacy citizens who are specialists or in higher echelons of our society are part of a Cabal, whom sit upon the Confederacy's greater wealth and influence which they have been building for many years. They're more like 'clubs' or 'parties', people who put their skills and resources together for a duty or an objective, but sometimes they are formed around people who go together very well and became successful in a field or profession. Those not in a Cabal are… lower… err… 'free'?"

"You make it sound like being in a cabal is a bad thing." Abe wrote down a list of people he will have to send the relevant information to when they were done.

"Human freedom is very different from Tatamai freedom." Anaherin moved her head slowly from side to side in thought. "We desire to be bound, to one's duty, to a growing family, to the Confederacy. You must understand that we are different in this regard. Those, um 'free' are able to find greatness in what they desire but are alone, their families alone, it isn't bad, but it isn't good."

"They're very socially aggressive creatures." Takashima spoke for the first time in several minutes, almost startling the other two at the table slightly. "Very 'if you're not with us, why are you here' kind of people."

Anaherin narrowed her eyes, "Insufficient in understanding us again, lieutenant-commander." She placed another set of papers in front of Abe with a slap. "We are not so immediately conclusive, we merely are fixated on a question with those we don't know, appropriate to many things, but more so strangers."

Takashima's nose wrinkled ever so slightly as she glared back at the ambassador, "And what question is that?"

The Tatamai rose her head up ever so slightly, as if the answer she had was some sign of moral superiority over the woman. "'What do you want'?"

[]

Nala smiled as she exchanged her credits with the grocery's cashier, politely bowing at the neck before leaving the store. She had hoped that she'd complete dinner not too soon after she gets back to their quarters, she'd likely be given free time to herself. However, Nala's optimism was snuffed slightly with worry as Bo paced towards her.

"Is everything alright?" Nala asked him in fluent Tatamai.

"Yes, but the station's sub-commander is the one attending our mistress's duties, she wanted to see if I could help you to avoid the human and I meeting further." Bo then took off his helmet and gave one of his tiny smiles, "Anything I can do?"

"Depends." Nala shrugged, having no further duties herself, "Can you cook?" She gave the large Tatamai one of her bags as they began walking to the lift.

"I can make a glorious glass of water." Bo smiled.

Nala laughed at that. She was used to the man being more like a background object, going hours upon hours without moving or saying something, and it was intimidating even is she has dealt with it for months, hearing him say a joke was comforting even as he resumed his semi silent vigil at her own side instead of her mistress's, but as they approached the lift, two Minbari quickly approached them and cut them off.

Nala's heart beat quickly in her chest, anxious from what they might want and before she asked, Bo demanded, "What do you want, zazs-hu?" His voice boomed in his heavily accented human.

The pair looked vastly different from one another, Nala noted. One's boney crest was smooth, and ribbed, and carried a strange grace to it, while the others was harsh, sticking back like thorns. Their dress was ornate in very varying layers, the former was laden with several layers of grey fabrics, wrapped closely around him, while the other was clad in leather, shoulder pauldrons of blue ceramics, and his chest was adorned with several medals. They, however what they looked like, leered equally menacingly at Bo and seemed confused when Nala stepped closer to the Tatamai's side. "Who are you, human?" The kinder looking one asked.

"She is none of your business, minbar-het." Bo stepped closer to the pair of minbari, "I would suggest getting out of our way. You're interrupting our supper."

"Truly, you cannot understand what time this is, what moment?" The harsh one demanded, unthreatened by Bo, and while he was clearly agitated, his face was still and only briefly showed hints of his fury. "Every Minbari can feel this dread, even a millennia after the event, can yours not?"

Bo growled, baring his teeth, most pointed and vicious, as he passionately declared, "How can we not?!" Quickly bringing the attention of all those nearby. "We curse your kind still for it! Ten centuries to the season! Whatever gods you soulless creatures might worship; they turned their backs on you for your heresies against mine!"

"To have an Tatamai speaking of souls is beyond ironic." The softer minbari spoke. "Your people know nothing of compassion, reason nor of generosity."

"Not to any of yours, and we haven't been apathetic enough." Bo huffed, "You unfeeling things… you… cold, bloodless machines. Take your presence elsewhere."

"We can find another lift or the ladders," Nala pleaded quietly, unable to know what was being exchanged, the three having been speaking minbari. "Can we just go?"

Bo looked to the human, and they bore all the fury the minbari have rose in him and more, and it was evident that his wrath would have extended to her if he were any other Tatamai. He extended the bag of food he carried back to her. She knew he intended to fight them, to start a brawl with these creatures. Nala wasn't certain what to do. She couldn't leave him, could she?

Bo looked back to the Minbari, "Go," he spat the last word, "butchers."

As if it were a password leading to chaos itself, the three met in a terrible clash. Bo threw his fist at the soft minbari, intending to neutralize what may have been the lesser combatant, but the alien was just quick enough to block to the attack, where the other minbari was at Bo's side with a kick. The Tatamai took the blow and he seemed momentarily unbalanced before he grabbed on to the leg of the harsh one, pushed with all his might until they met the lift's doors, the minbari losing his footing on the way, where Bo lifted up his hoof as high as he could and stomped downwards as hard as he could, slamming his hoof down with a thunderous crack that could be heard by all those nearby. The Minbari cried out briefly, but quickly shoved the Tatamai away before succumbing to the injury, providing the opportunity for his more combatively adept comrade to launch a kick of his own to the Tatamai, and the effects were almost as devastating as the now fallen Tatamai. The blow struck Bo's mid-abdomen with such force that he yelled out and clutched at his chest, forcing himself back, but the pain from the injury almost made him want to fall over, and he started to struggle to breathe, coughing harshly as he did so, keeping back from the minbari.

As the Tatamai's opponent began to rush towards Bo, Nala screamed and tackled the minbari to the ground, striking crudely at the alien's face with all the strength she could summon. The human was on her back a moment later, Nala's face running blood from the broken nose he gave her, but before he could stand back up, Bo took Nala's place as attacker, quickly swiping his hoof across the Minbari's head. Regardless of his boney crest, the sheer force was able to stagger the man, and he did wonder if he would have been killed if station security hadn't sprung upon them, weapons drawn and ordering, "Stop! Hands up! You're under arrest!"

Bo was at Nala's side as the humans approached to apprehend them, trying to see if she was more deeply injured from the minbari's attack. "Step away!" One of the security officers demanded as he approached Bo. He weakly complied, and he nearly screamed as his wrists were swung around his back and bound, his chest feeling worse by the second, but was glad to see the humans caring for Nala as they tried to get her off the ground.

That solved the immediate problem of Nala. Now Bo started to worry about his own, and maybe his job when his employer hears of this.

[]

"I and many of my kind are well aware of this tradition among those musicians!" Anaherin smiled broadly, "The Tatamai are more then happy to accommodate, but if they prove over vigorous, we may have difficulty sending such worthy challenges back home to you."

Abe stared at the alien, "Um, I think you've been misinformed. A 'crowd surf' isn't when one of the rock 'n roll band members jumps off the stage and starts a… you know…"

"Orgy." The lieutenant-commander scoffed, hands on her face as she leant on the table with her elbows, and fully looking completely and truly at odds with the meeting.

Anaherin looked between them, "Yes?" She stated in such a way that she was surprised such a thing was hard not to do in the given scenario. "If you're worried about marital status, we can make sure that those taken as husbands or brides are appropriately marked. We… aren't as stringent with er… what was the word?"

"Adultery?" Abe asked.

"Infidelity?" Takashima added.

"Yes, that. Though several alien cultures have it, we don't often let them venture so freely and it may benefit others to have deference be paid to this concept." Anaherin placed the pad down and pulled out the data-crystal.

"I thought Tatamai practiced marriage?" Takashima asked aloud but didn't seem to actually want an answer.

"Yes, of course we do." Anaherin nodded, "However, we're a bit uneven in the gender department, so having one male marrying five women isn't unheard of and we can have partners outside of this bond so long as we only have progeny with those we have wed." The Tatamai looked to Abe and smirked deviously, "And a good male is hard to pass up on."

Abe coughed into his fist harshly, pulling at his tie and shirt's neck, "Ehm! I see. You still won't have to worry about such extreme situations of 'crowd surfing'. I think we've more or less covered everything, anything else?"

Anaherin shook her head, "No, I will forward the contracts to the Ilway's palace and we can-"

The conference room's door opened and the Tatamai's sunny disposition, having endured the grueling labors of paper work, was annihilated when she spotted the Minbari ambassador standing at the opening, next to the Babylon-Five's security chief.

"Master Garibaldi." Anaherin noted as the recent pair walked in, "What can I do for you today?"

Garibadli looked between her, Abe and his fellow officer Takashima, "We've had another incident, a brawl if we're being specific. I'll call Commander Sinclair down to discuss this more, and Delenn's agreed to talk about what's been happening between you guys." The human's Link chimed, where he quickly looked to both the alien ambassadors and offered, "Excuse me." As he left the room to answer the call.

"Ahhh…" Anaherin gave a sarcastic smile, "I would happily add my own information in, wouldn't want you to rely solely on the minbari's creative outlook on reality."

Delenn kept a calm look about her as she replied, "We seek only to speak of the truth, hopefully you're willing to do the same."

"Of course!" Anaherin stood and walked to Abe, extending her hand as removed himself from his seat. "Find Nala, she will see you to your place of rest, until we meet again."

Abe smiled back and shook her hand, still miffed by her palm's rough texture, "Until we meet again." And sighed when the door closed at his back, relieved that today was finally nearing its end.

"Sir, are you affiliated with the Tatamai?" The security chief asked as he walked towards the door.

"Uh, not really. I'm a business-government liaison with the Alliance that got stuck with the short stick back home and have to formalize migration rights. I should work commission from what we've been talking about today though, we went way off the call of duty with what we put pen on paper this evening." Abe gave a small smile. "Why? Something the matter?"

"We've been having the incredible experience of two whole species, the Tatamai and Minbari, losing their collective marbles and deciding to go at other like a pair of insane back alley cats. It's gotten even worse recently, we've had two incidents happen in less then three hours and one of them involved a human," Garibaldi bit his lips harshly, "The Confederacy Ambassador's slave, specifically. Anything you know about this?"

Abe wanted to ram his face into the nearest bulkhead, "You've gotta be kidding me… that girl was supposed to be taking me to my home away from home on the station." He said more to himself, "Um, I know about as much as you, I'm only a businessman."

Garibaldi grimaced, "Well, sorry pal but I don't know what to do about that, maybe one of my guys can track down where you're supposed to be staying but if these fights continue to pick up, we might be a bit short handed."

Abe gave a long, painful and sour exhale of breath, "I get it, I get it."

Garibaldi gave a dry chuckle, "Welcome to Babylon Five."

[]

Anaherin was glaring towards the Delenn, whom was glaring straight back at the Tatamai. One was clearly agitated, bearing her teeth as her kind often did, while the other was serene though her animosity was somehow just as intense. "I assure you that Nala is being given the best of care and that her injuries were light compared to your guard's, or that of the Minbari's."

"Seems the Minbari still have the taste for human blood? How much more would you enjoy?" Anaherin growled.

"Those Minbari were attacked by your guard." Delenn replied quietly.

Anaherin looked to Sinclair, "There is no evidence of that! This could have easily be started by one of yours! We both know how they jump into battle!"

"You would dare compare the war to this incident?" Sinclair warned the Tatamai ambassador.

While Anaherin seemed humbled by the human's response, she was only just. Thinking for a moment before gesturing back the minbari, "This would not be a problem if her kind did not antagonize mine, they know fully well what they are doing."

Sinclair looked at the two as he said, "The question is: why?"

"Have the esteemed ambassador of the Federation tell you." Anaherin waved a hand towards the other woman, "Part of our agreement with the joint venture of the Babylon Project was that we keep certain subjects undisclosed to mankind, for our benevolent accessory alongside us if they and only they reveal it to your kind." Anaherin sat back in her seat and crossed her arms. "So unless the ambassador here has recently grown a sense of morality outside of a Minbari's primitive sense of honour…"

"Ambassador!" Sinclair warned once more. "While it's clear that your distaste for these incidents is intense, I request that you control your emotions. Now; the growing fear that has been founded was that this might risk the lives of others, and today a human was injured in this exchange. We must prevent-"

"If it must be mended, it must start with them!" Anaherin pointed at Delenn. "Lest it end in a similar manner," looking Delenn down, "once again!"

The commander sighed bitterly at the display, realizing it was going to be one of those days.

[]

"Foolish this." His 'bodyguard', Red-Bar, spat in her crude conjunction of English that Jakaecado taught briefly as she and others were drilling him on the Tatamai's most basic and commonly used tongue.

"'Foolish-ness'," Correcting her as he looked up from his bed, seeing her through the bars of his cell. "But you are not wrong either." Switching back to their language, lifting himself up from the sole fixture of furniture he had since he had been put in bonds, "How long was I asleep?"

"Two days. Your control-collar was activated by the Sub-Commander before you were even half way to the escape pod. It… was poorly fashioned against your biology. When the lower stuns did not work, your mistress decided to use a kill setting. If you were Tatamai-"

"I get the picture." Jakaecado held up a hand in interruption, "So why didn't she kill me after?"

The guard gave a throaty chuckle, "For once you were her pet, a prestigious commodity in its scarcity. Now she endeavors to make you a doomed beast of war for humiliating her in your escape attempt."

"Um…" The marine slipped on several words, his need to rapidly absorb their language only being able to reach so far, "Simply put?"

Red-Bar was silent for a moment, staring at the human before she gave a sigh, leaned her back against the bars of his cell and slid on them down to sit. "She will have you placed in the Ark's Bloodsports. The pirate mercenaries the Lord-Commander has hired are desperate for your blood, enough so the Commander has allowed you to be placed in their games for a rather large sum of future profits from their part."

While he at first was going to question the reasoning behind this ire directed towards him specifically, Jakaecado leered at Red-Bar's back. 'She would have a key to my cell.' He concluded, justifiable if the need to relocate or aid him from some sickness to the medical ward. Tempted to make use of the opportunity, he, quietly rose from his bed, padded slowly towards her, still sitting and silent, neck just barely visible under her helmet's back crest.

He quickly stopped, fear lancing through him sharply as she spoke again, "It won't be a pleasant experience, even in its short duration before you humans go to where you go when you die." Still not moving, but he swore he saw her hand move up on the holster of her sidearm. Remembering back how fast of a quickdraw Red-Bar was what felt like months ago, he stepped away, hesitant in that he could disarm her, or render her unconscious, or whatever else he thought he could do.

Jakaecado walked back several paces and sighed, "Well… can you go into the nature of these 'Blood Sports' at least?"

Red-Bar gave a small 'tsh', "There are many. It is uncommon for them to end in fatalities, but it is not unexpected, there is a reason only criminals, war-slaves that have no more use to provide, or the brazenly foolish volunteers are enrolled in their ranks. I expect they want you dead as soon as your exotic nature runs it course through the crew, allow them to put a wager or two, then have you placed against an impossible obstacle. Possibly one of the pirate's marine raiders. Uncivilized bunch…" She commented as she rose from her seat, "… but effective. Especially if they send you against the unit that thought you were responsible for their second-in-command's death."

Jakaecado finally broke the plan, and asked, "Why do they think that?! I haven't killed anyone since the Dilgar attack on the Drazi!"

"I told them you did." She quickly answered.

He glared at the alien, suddenly regretting not acting on his instincts earlier and letting fear control him. "That one with the knife… you cut her head off, that was her wasn't it?"

"Had to blame someone, avoid any falling out between the pirates and the true-crew aboard. You had to be protected, yet you were the perfect scapegoat! A member of a new species, found amidst a war torn world. You broke your restraints, took the Sari's battleaxe after you threw him across the examination room, then cut her down. It also improved your quality as property taken from a battle, the Sub-Commander was almost witless with unspoken gratitude towards you for the display. That is until you tried to escape."

Jakaecado was nearly foaming from fury as she explained the story she told her superiors of his capture. His wordless anger was clear to the Tatamai, and as she leant her head to one side, could somehow feel the smarmy grin on her face. "I miscalculated how you would react towards your new status. You were so easy to capture, falling at my feet like a hungry rjami that I expected you to stay your place." She lifted a hand, "I am… also punished as a result, I cannot leave your side and have forced my own unit's second to temporarily relieve me every so often, but I cannot eat nor sleep out of sight of you as a result."

Jakaecado was pacing from one end of his cell to the other, trying to think past his rage, what he would do to escape again.

He was jolted out of his pattern as Red-Bar opened his holding cell.

The marine stared as she removed her helmet, revealing her short, braided hair, pearly horns and mischievous smile. Holding her helmet under an arm, she pulled out a small, white rectangular block with several black buttons on its surface. "Looks familiar to you?"

"That's… I think that's that woman's controls for my 'collar'?" Though calling it such was clumsy to the human, 'implant' being more apt in his mind considering that it was placed under his skin, invisible to eye.

"It is indeed. If anything happens that I don't like and you're responsible for what happens, well, use your imagination. I will also be held responsible for your public decorum, making sure you arrive at the arenas and sporting events on time. And if I push one of these… actually, lets just give it a try now!"

Jakaecado reeled back, anticipating the terrible waves of pain that struck him like before in every inch of his body. Instead… nothing. Or barely nothing. He felt a faint tingling against his neck, something he had to focus on to feel fully. His eyes darted from one side of the cell to the other. "W-what?"

"I turned the settings down." Red-Bar grinned, "Or might as well have. It will still be active and traceable, but I removed its pain and death protocols. So, if you see me using it in the future in front of others, you better act like you're under the lashes of Hell itself."

Before he could even ask why, she explained further. "Sub-Commander Rathua should not have put you in the state you are now. When the Red-Star cabal hears of this uncouth behavior, I have no doubt we shall all be punished. The plan, if you survive the coming weeks, is that when we next exit hyperspace, I shall smuggle you aboard an outgoing courier's shuttle with reports. The pilot has had her loyalty secured, and if you should die in the Sports ahead, whats left of you will be sent regardless. However, if you arrive yourself to port, the Confederacy will have no choice but to return you to your home."

"Why are you doing this?"

"The issues of my duties aboard now are explicitly related to you, barring me from further raids on Dilgar targets, we know too little of your kind to so brazenly place you into this position. You could be strong, you could be weak, but the Dilgar have begun to fear you and your people, and that has forced me and many others to give pause to your treatment." Her smile broadened, "It will also likely force Sub-Commander Rathua to be relieved of duty from her treatment of you, as it was both reckless and foolish. The commander likes neither of these traits."

While it was clear altruism was no element in the plan for his liberation, Jakaecado was almost relieved when he knew it was for ulterior motives. She wants this plan to succeed for her own benefit as well as his own. The human rolled his jaw, "So… I haven't managed to get a name for ya. Who are you?"

Her smile dimmed slightly, "Does it matter?"

"Well if this goes to plan, I'd definitely owe you a drink. A name would help." He commented dryly.

"In a perfect world, it would go exactly as planned, but plans rarely remain intact. You may call me 'captain', my current rank." Crossing her arms.

Jakaecado was dizzy for a split moment, but it was severe enough that he turned slightly, arms extended and staring at the ground, wondering if it was moving under his feet.

"Lay back down and rest." 'Captain' pointed to his bed, holding him under his arm as he did so.

"Which is certainly not to protect you at all if this fails, of course." He smiled sarcastically, continuing the conversation before his sudden ailment.

'Captain' didn't instantly respond instead, examining his head, turning it from one side to the other as he laid down (checking for bleeding out of his ears or nose he assumed), before she let him go and said "Of course. Who in their right mind would conspire against their superior officer?" The alien chuckled.

She didn't immediately leave, she trailed a finger from his cheek, down to his chin, then scratching it down the center of his neck until it met his chest, before pressing her palm fully against his exposed chest, running her armored fingers through the hairs. Just as the human was about to question the nature of what she was doing, 'captain' removed both her hand from his chest and herself from the cell almost at the same time.

[]

Anaherin stared down at Nala on the biobed, the human's eyes were closed and she calmly sleeping, knocked unconscious by the painkillers they had to administer before surgeons could properly attend to her nose. The bones broken from the attack had been pushed back into the skull with such a depth that if left unattended, would likely have killed her, blood being cut off from circulation.

"I can get you a chair, if you like." Anaherin looked to her side and saw Doctor Kyle, looking pensively to both her and Nala. "I understand your people's feet get tired a lot faster, and you've been here a while now."

"They weren't made for standing, no." Anaherin shrugged a shoulder, a terrible habit she gained from living with these humans. "But I will be fine, I shall leave in a moment." Turning to look at the doctor, "Hows the station acclimatizing to you departing?"

Kyle smiled as he lifted up a tablet, "Been putting me through my paces that's for certain, like people know I'm leaving and giving me more to work with so I don't have to think about it. But… I'm definitely going to miss it..."

"Hopefully no more Vorlons coming through in the near future?"

"Better not, but I fear more Tatamai coming in." Kyle tapped a pen at the top of the tablet and clicked his tongue, "We've already had two of your people in critical over barely a day."

Anaherin paused. "Minbari related injuries no doubt."

"Yes, and I still don't understand why there's been so many." Waiting for Anaherin to look at him when he added, "For both races."

"Hmph." The Tatamai scoffed, avoiding the question. "How long will you think she'll be here?"

"A day, maybe two." The doctor walked over to Nala's side by Anaherin, "She'll be in a lot of pain as the nose heals though, it'd take a week or more. Can I ask if she'd have lighter duties helping you in whatever you normally have her do?"

"She'll have it." Anaherin crossed her arms. "Recommendations to aid her? Do… humans need anything to heal properly besides food, medicine and rest?"

"No, and while we're on the subject, you may want to ask her to see if she wants to switch to a different diet." Kyle pulled up the chart at the end of her bed, "Nala had a few irregularities in her blood test, she only eats Tatamai food I take it? Has she been having any issues?"

Anaherin slowly ran a finger over Nala's brow before pushing back a lock of hair hair off her face, "She's been having problems sleeping."

"Well, I would definitely recommend introducing human food, slowly, let her system readjust to it." The doctor walked over to his computer, printed out a sheet of paper and walked back over to the ambassador. "Here's a list of foodstuffs to begin with. Mostly vegetables, well cooked."

Anaherin eyed the menu, before squinting at the list, "What in Tltri's name is a 'yard-long bean'? I haven't been starving her, have I?"

Kyle smiled broadly, "Haha, no! It's just a name."

Anaherin seemed unamused, but whether it was due to the circumstances she found herself deadening her sense of humor or if her alien mind didn't just find it funny, the doctor couldn't tell. "Thank you doctor." Before looking to the isolation cell at the far end of the infirmary, asking, "And my bodyguard?"

Kyle's grin dimmed instantly. "He'll… be taking a lot longer. Broken arm, ribs, and mild concussion."

"I'll requisition an appropriate remedy from home. He'll be back to full strength a week after its been administered." Anaherin gave a slow nod, "And for the other injured Tatamai, if they so wish." Biting her lip in thought.

"Wow." Kyle stated, "Impressive medical technology, wish we had that here."

Anaherin ignored him a moment, sparing a glance, "In time maybe." Sighing, "It has been a long day and I must retire. Until we see each other again."

As she left medbay, Chief Garibaldi waited to escort her back to her quarters along with one another security officer she couldn't put a name to. It was more or less silent, until Garibaldi said, "Nala's well taken care of. If… ya know… still a slave."

"It's called 'Indentured Servitude'." Anaherin said without much thought to what she was doing, feeling stunned and distant from the whole exchange.

"Tomato tomatoe, your ambassadorialness."

Anaherin's tolerance for the stints of human foolishness was already gone. She closed her eyes briefly, imagined that Garibaldi was a Tiatami, Bo was also with her in the lift and she ordered him to gut the man for his foolishness. Covering up a murder would also have been far easier on a Tiatami station. The whole imagined scenario kept her wisely silent as they travelled to blue deck.

Garibaldi was expecting some kind of retort back, considering how often Anaherin and Takashima sparred verbally, but as he continued to look at her, all that he knew was that the Tiatami was concerned. Deeply concerned about Nala, from the sad look that the alien was only barely trying to hide.

Liberation status aside for Nala, Garibaldi felt a twinge of guilt from mentioning the subject and shared the silence with the ambassador up until they got her to the woman's quarters. "Stay safe, ambassador." Garibaldi said before departing.

[]

Anaherin was perplexed. And distraught.

It was less the sight of her kin that shook her, in their various forms of hurt, that unbalanced the Tatamai, instead the circumstances which summoned the injuries of Nala.

Whether or not it was due to the element of the Sharpening or maybe the realization that this issue would only escalate until a choice was made, even if it was the wrong one.

Anaherin caught herself wandering back to the bed on autopilot, unable to recall how she arrived where she was. The Tatamai pondered what the damnable Minbari are doing now, if they were speaking truthfully to the human Commander.

That is when her mind summoned the idea, nearly out of the ether, that had a spark of possible success to it. Anaherin summoned the heads of the Cadet Cabals aboard the station, and proclaimed: "The duty of truth is now no longer in our grasp, but now we must ensure the safety of the outsiders aboard due to the ignorance of our Honoured Adversary. Summon what ships you can, we must depart from the station. Immediately."

Not even half a day has passed and as Anaherin had predicted, a gaining mass depopulation of Tatamai had drawn the eyes of not only the humans, but those other races in the form of the Narn, the Centauri and the medley of the Non-Aligned Worlds voicing their concerns of their departure. The lady of the Red Star Cabal, however, conspired with several captains to make some departures slower than others, to draw out the anxiety inspiring nature of this conspiracy.

While such decisions were necessary to avoid further damages to the relations of other species, especially the humans, Anaherin couldn't help but smile at the delicious nature of the growing stress she could see, hear and almost taste in the others as her plan began to fall into place.

Some hours later, Anaherin received a summons to Commander Sinclair. She tried to seem dour, distraught at the scenario she has made, striding into the commander's office as straight backed as she could.

[]

Delenn could tell the Tatamai ambassador had more of a hand in the situation then either herself or Commander Sinclair anticipated just from looking at her walk in.

"Ambassador," Sinclair began, hands on his table as he leant forward, "we've had a startling number of your people leaving the station, not only is the sudden sharp increase in traffic causing massive docking delays, it has a lot of others nervous." He stood up, "Including me. What's going on?"

The Tatamai looked towards Delenn, "Considering the 'issues' that have only been intensifying, I believe it warranted that I remove at least one element out of this violent chemical reaction."

Delenn looked pointedly at Anaherin, "Tell me what you are planning, creature."

Anaherin gave a loud, sharp, mocking laugh at the Minbari, "Creature?! And what do you mean, hmmm? Plans within plans? I wouldn't wish to provide you any opportunity to harm my people or others further!"

"You wouldn't leave unless you were planning something terrible! Is that it?" Delenn almost hissed, "Do you plan on attacking the station, have you sent ships to seize this place and kill its people?!"

"Ambassadors!" Sinclair tried to reassert his presence between them, but they didn't even seem to hear the man.

"If I were so desperate for carnage, I'd not risk this place or the people aboard! I'd simply have these imagined vessels of yours sent to the Federation's boarder and find a random cruiser, hopefully it'd have your next blasted prophet aboard!" Anaherin bore her teeth at the Minbari.

Delenn slowly began to circle around the room towards Anaherin, "Were I to believe such an imaginative fabrication! You are having your people evacuate this place because you intend to have it targeted! Striking this place out of spite of my kind!"

"The only thing I'm considering striking out of uncontrolled wrath happens to be the snail-head slattern in the room with me!"

Sinclair looked on as both women turned themselves from what he's slowly grown to know for the last few months, into jingoistic bloodhounds, looking for weaknesses to leap upon. From an outsider looking in at it, Sinclair felt it wasn't something that had been truly spawned by traditional means of mutual hatred and hostility, no, this was something else entirely. "Security team to my office!" To his Link, just in time for one, final, threat to escape Delenn's lips, and while his understanding of the minbari language was spotty at best, he didn't need to fully understand it as Anaherin leapt forward with a startling quick charge!

Delenn, however, saw the attack coming, catching the Tatamai in her lunge and throwing her to the floor, but the latter quickly recovered, but the latter quickly recovered standing up and prepared for another attack, but Sinclair was between the two just in the nick of time to give the idea of further violence doubt. The man saw his own intervention had an effect beyond what he intended, and Sinclair noted a dazed bewilderment in both aliens, as if his meddling caused a deeper interference in the issues arising.

Sinclair was holding up both arms to both aliens, not sure what to say or do next, instead yelling out, "Enough! Ambassadors, take a seat and settle down!" Thinking to himself in despair, 'Hopefully it isn't this bad elsewhere on the station!'

[]

Despite the departure's only taking a fraction of the population, the steadily increasing pace of Tatamai out of the station has decreased the number of incidents over the course of the remaining day.

Families, big and small, were at departures with thwir belongings, doing as they were bid; leave Babylon-5.

However, one trio of Tatamai wives looked at their surroundings, despairing not only were they at the end of a very long line out of their recently inhabited home, but that a man was staring at them. A Centauri by the look of his flaring, fan shaped hair.

The one who noticed the man mentioned it quietly to the others but before even they brought their attention to him, the Centauri began yelling hoarsely at the trio as he charged quickly into the Tatamai, stomping harshly on the head of the one he managed to push over.

Strangely, however, across the station in Downbelow; a Lurker stopped mid-pace, looked for a station Lift out of brown sector. Leading up to red sector, and attacked the first Minbari that met his sight.

Garibaldi's Link almost burned against the back of his hand from the intensity of activity going into it. Over the course of an hour, he had a dozen incidents and a quarter as many deaths.

Just as the command staff had gathered in Sinclair's office to discuss the emergency, Takashima said: "This was bound to happen, two of the biggest kids on the boat start rocking it their ways and everyone starts getting fed up with both of them." Crossing her arms.

Garibaldi looked to the side in thought, "You know, I'd be inclined to agree, but everyone and their dog knew the Tatamai were leaving, why pick fights with the Minbari if they knew half the reason for all the trouble was going out the door? And even if they did have a reason, you'd think at least one of them would take credit for it and give some bogus reason, all these people claim they suddenly had amnesia while trying to beat these people to death."

Sinclair was looked down, eyes staring a spot on a single spot on the floor as he tried his best to put the pieces together. "And when I tried to get some answers from the Confederacy ambassador, Delenn… well… she wasn't acting like herself, neither was Anaherin. It was bizarre."

"They're still confined to quarters?" Takashima inquired.

"Yep, and good thing too. Holding cells are starting to fill out fast." Garibaldi nodded.

Sinclair sighed deeply, momentarily closing his eyes and trying to see if he was missing anything. "Anything… unusual with the people that started the most recent acts of violence?"

"Negative, apart from each of them taking a piece of either Minbari or Tatamai; they don't have anything to do with one another. Centauri, human, Drazi, Markab and even a pak'ma'ra. That first one was barely on the station's side of the airlock before he jumped on a the lady's head."

The fact that the Centauri was a recent arrival seemed to peek Sinclair's interest, "What was he doing here, why?"

"He's a member of his local telepath-guild, newly trained."

Sinclair blinked, "Could all of these people potentially be telepathic?"

Garibaldi looked at the man as if struck by lightning, "Are you thinking that for some reason, this little feud going on between the Minbari and Tatamai is somehow… contagious to telepaths? What like, they pick up some bad vibes from the locals and immediately jump on acting on them?"

Sinclair shook his head slowly as he said, "Something tells me this 'feud' is far from little… and the populations of both races aren't exactly small on the station, maybe the sheer intensity of whatever these people are experiencing are… leaking out and effecting those sensitive enough to receive the mental backwash?"

Takashima quickly ran to the nearby console to investigate the possibility that these other perpetrators were telepathic.

Garibaldi blew air in thought, "If you're right, it's a good thing our replacement teep for Lyta is behind schedule."

"Right?" Sinclair gave a dry chuckle, "Who'd have thought Psi-Corp dragging its feet would be a good thing?"

Takashima turned around, "Confirmed: at least seven other perpetrators have been tested positive for telepathic ability by their governments, I would presume the others had telepathic abilities that were so low that maybe they weren't even able to be detected."

"Okay, we may have figured out the how, now we're still stuck on the why. It seems that the Federation and Confederacy have made an agreement during their particular contributions to the Babylon Project, but this has gotten far out of hand, people have died and so help me I'm getting those answers. Get those two ambassadors out of their quarters and up here immediately." Looking to Doctor Kyle, "Are there any drugs we can administer to inhibit telepathic influence? I know they're not telepathic themselves but is there any way for them to be numbed to whatever is affecting them, I doubt I'd be able to stop a fight the same way I did next time."

Doctor Kyle grimaced harshly, shook his head. "There are a lot of hurdles that might be involved, all of our telepathic nulling drugs are tailored for human biology, I can do a little bit of research, give them only small doses, but there's a lot of unknowns that can have one or both of them in my lab, or worse, in the freezers."

Garibaldi harshly at the thought, "That'd be a tough one to explain to Earthgov."

Sinclair looked down briefly, "Or the Tatamai. Or the Minbari."

Doctor Kyle took a step forward, "Like I said, I'm willing to try but we have to be careful, very careful about this."

Sinclair stood up fully, straightened his jacket. "Prep what you can, have both ambassadors sent up to the Council Chambers."

Garibaldi looked between the two of them and inquired, almost desperately, "Annnd what about the crazies crawling out the wood work trying to hurt members of these races?"

Sinclair blinked slowly in thought and said, "Have some guards posted around departure, and advise the Minbari to limit their presence to their quarters unless absolutely necessary to do otherwise, can you also post guards to those needing to come or go?"

Garibaldi nodded, his mouth pressed into a stressed line in hesitancy, "And the telepaths we have in the brig?"

"Keep them for the time being, but contact the Centauri Telepath Guild," Sinclair walked toward the door, "Arrange a deal for their man we have in custody to be released for his service of helping us out in this issue then send the man up to the Council Chambers as well."

[]

Jakaecado stared out of the shuttle's porthole, seeing the approaching Earth Alliance shuttle in an almost dream like stupor. What it was, what was coming to help him was something human.

"How long did they say you were gone?" Anaherin asked aloud.

"Two thousand, one hundred and thirty-two days…" The human said aloud, "Nearly six of our years."

The Tiatami strode next to the man, looking out in silence with Jakaecado as the shared chapter of their lives came to an end. "They have any plans for you?"

Jakaecado didn't reply at first, pondering what would likely happen versus what he was told. "A very long debriefing to be certain. Some… re-education. Turns out, I somehow forgot how to speak chunks of my native language over time. They said this thing happens with humans when they are separated from their people's tongue for so long, it gets replaced by what is needed to survive in the foreign environment one is stuck in."

Anaherin looked down, ashamed. "I am…" She said in heavily accented english.

Jakaecado looked at her, aghast. Tiatami don't speak in another language unless they can speak it perfectly. This was a sign of exposure, of weakness, inferiority. It was also the first time Jakaecado heard his tongue not through a speaker or electronic screen in half a decade.

"I am soor… I am sooorei." Anaherin voiced as best she could. "I failed you." She reverted back to her own native language, "I regret not leaving you where you were found."

"Life's too short for regrets, I'm just glad you got me back. It was touch and go a few times." Jakaecado smiled at her. Sighing, "What about you? Got any plans for the future?"

The woman crossed her arms, "In the infinite wisdom of the Grand Lady of the Red Star Cabal, I am to be removed from formal military matters and be given to the Narn as a member of ambassadorial staff. I will be residing in a compound they made for visiting dignitaries on their homeworld."

"Sounds prestigious! You should be proud!" The human smiled broadly.

"Living on a planet though? It's unnatural!" The Tiatami waved a hand lightly at the human.

The shuttle docked with the Alliance retrieval vessel, giving a small tremor through the vessel. The oppressive silence returned to the pair, Anaherin striding to the rear of the vessel, extending their own section of ship-to-ship docking that Tiatami near universally utilized, a section of the ship being able to be easily torn off or detached to repel possible hostile boarders.

"Computer, disable artificial gravity." Anaherin ordered the ship's intelligence. The two began to float slightly, forcing them to grab onto nearby walls, objects and openings in the panels made for this purpose to move to the umbilical.

Anaherin slid her helmet on and activated the polarization effect, not only to dim the effect of the bright lights humans typically used to see, but to keep anonymity to the secretive diplomat and his entourage. Keeping her name hidden could only do so much, but should a telepath from the Confederacy somehow encounter these human delegates, it'd most certainly come back to bite her.

As they continued to wait for the human's side to cycle through, Anaherin looked up and said, "I am glad to have met you."

Jakaecado smiled back, "Wished we met under better circumstances, but me too."

Anaherin had to look away. She couldn't stop staring at his damaged, vacant eye, nor his stump which used to be his right hand, suit's arm flopping vacantly with every move.

After a terribly long wait, the umbilical console lit up blue in confirmation of a completed cycle. Opening up the ovoid doors, they met the humans on their end doing the same. Four men floated into the thin, claustrophobic connection. Its confines, while filled with habitable atmosphere and pressure, was still a possible hazard, and all were donned in grey-green vacuum suits, each man armed with a pistol at their hip, and their heads enclosed in a large, transparent dome.

Anaherin cursed herself for not carrying her own weapon, she and her friend would seem weak to these outsiders.

As the four took a rough box formation, a fifth member came forward. While endowed with the same suit as the other humans, the man seemed infinitely more clumsy and awkward as he came forward.

Anaherin floated forward, her companion at her side as she did and met the fifth human at the center between the ships.

Anaherin extended a hand out to shake, but gave a doubtful glance back at Jakaecado. Jakaecado nodded at Anaherin to confirm the nature of the gesture, with the human greeting them grasping her hand, moving it up and down. Anaherin had to fight the urge to snap her hand back as human said something in his people's tongue. She looked down at her wrist as her armor's computer digested his words.

Jakaecado, however, didn't want to wait and quickly translated back to Anaherin: "Good Morning! I'm David Sheridan, diplomat of the Earth Alliance. I thank you deeply for this risk you've made in getting our missing warrior back home."

Anaherin nodded back at this 'Diplomat David', saying back, "The risk you took here was also great. See to it that this man is given all the care he asks for." She then reached into one of her armor's pockets and pulled out a data-crystal, encircled in twine. "The length of cord will have the encryption key to unlock the crystal. It has all that I promised."

"Thank you." The diplomat said back, looking to Jakaecado himself and nodding, "Ready to head home?"

Jakaecado was hit with a sudden feeling of uncertainty, of doubt, there was a great deal he could say to his friend and savior but as he turned his head the alien's way, she gave a tiny but noticeable shake of the head, as if reading his mind. She gestured at the humans and, maybe somehow knowing what Sheridan had said without translation, simply said to him, 'Go.' No goodbye, no long farewell from what was most certainly the closest thing to a friend he's had over his capture.

Jakacedo couldn't think of any last words to say to her, so he ducked his head away from her and wordlessly kicked off the side of the umbilical, slowly drifting towards his people's ship.

David looked on as the young, long lost GROPO was escorted into the Olympus corvette, and as he was about to inquire the Tiatami liaison further, looked back to see her just re-entering her own vessel and closing her end of the small docking tube.

Getting the picture, David did the same, the ships soon departing back to their mutual territories. Trying to strike up some conversation with the rescued solider, David asked, "That was a lot shorter then I expected the rendezvous to last. You know who that was though, right?"

Jakaecado nodded, "Yeah. She's a friend."

David looked down at the empty, flapping hand of his pressure suit and inquired, "She have anything to do with that?"

Jakaecado didn't have to look at the man to know what he was talking about. "No," He sighed deeply, "but they made her watch while it happened. This too," pointing at his missing eye, "And this is only the stuff you can see. These aliens? They ain't gentle when it comes to torturing their POWs."

David wanted to inquire more, but the spite the man had in his voice as he explained it all made him think against it. "We'll get you home as soon as we can. There's some quarters set aside for you in case you wanted to be alone for a bit." David tried to conclude and leave the poor man be, pushing off the hull down the corridor.

"Hey mister." Jakaecado called out to him, making David turn around mid float. "What's on the crystal?"

"Lots of classified information, sorry son. Can't talk much about it."

That made Jakaecado blink, "So it's not about what happened to me over the years?"

"Not all of it, n-"

Anaherin blinked harshly, feeling the human's crude syringe derived medication meeting what parts of her mind it was meant to effect, alongside a wave of nausea, dehydration and a sudden urge to eat something salty.

'Why am I thinking so much about him today?' Anaherin pondered, still sitting alone in Sinclair's office as he and his cohorts were off doing what ever it is humans do when they wish to ignore a guest that they invited. 'And why does this imagined history my mind constantly conjure feel so real?'

She felt like such a small part of this human's history, but he had so much more influence on herself as these moments of waking dreams overtook her idle mind.

'Maybe I'm still recovering from his death afterall, even after all these years.' The humans call it 'mourning', as she recalled. Minbari, Centauri, Narn and various other races had emotional states of being for the passing for someone one cared for. Save her own kind. Life and death are intwined, both happen everyday, in ways one cannot expect, and regardless how well off one is, either socially or monetarily; it is a daily-constant. It happens, then it's over, everything else around it continues to move. 'Bah, has my mind been muddled by a lesser race's sentimentality? Truly the universe does have a bizarre sense of humor.' Despite the dismissiveness she tried to force into the thought, she bit her bottom lip with a great deal of worry at the idea.

As if on cue, Babylon-Five's command staff of Sinclair, Takashima, Geribaldi and following them; ambassador Delenn and a Centauri she had no name for.

Anaherin stood up at the Minbari's presence, "And why is she here then?"

"I wouldn't be too concerned about her now." Commander Sinclair nodded towards Anaherin before looking back at Delenn, "Neither should you. Allow me to introduce you both to Raola of House Digano, new member of the Centauri Republic's Telepath Guild."

The Centauri looked nervously between the Minbari and Tiatami, "A-a pleasure. I'm here by agreement to act solely as a witness for the goings on that has recently occurred."

Anaherin doubted anything of being free of treachery with a minbari in the vicinity, and while the centauri was undoubtedly nervous, of the what specifically was the question to the Tiatami.

Sinclair looked to Delenn, "Would you like to take a seat, please?" Before looking back at Anaherin, extending the question to her, desperation for civility at this meeting visible in his tightly clenched jaw and and his dour, almost sad, look in his eyes.

Anaherin sat back down, watching closely as Delenn took her own chair, both watching each other anxiously as they waited for this debacle to continue.

Commander Sinclair sat behind his desk, looking between the three aliens. "So, Delenn, are you authorized to talk about what this whole issue is about?"

The minbari looked down for a brief second before, "I may… speak only partially of the events which have relevance to the date and recent events."

The Tiatami, without a blink or looking away from the commander, pulled out a data crystal from her dress's side, "I may speak fully of it," before looking over, "but unless authorized by three members of their highest echelons of government, I can only give what is allowed…" Briefly looking back at Delenn, stressing the last word in almost a hiss, "by the official representative of their Federation."

Sinclair narrowed his eyes at the both of them, "I don't understand, your two cultures despise one another, the one element you can come to barely an agreement to is withholding information about what has transpired between you two and has now effected my station?"

Delenn and Anaherin exchanged a look that bordered on mutual distaste at the situation, "In our defense, these… events only happen every one-hundred and fifty years and the exact timing of it is never predictable, it moves, sooner then later, then later then sooner."

Sinclair's brow raised, "This… whatever it is, has happened before?"

"Indeed," Delenn nodded, "but we've never been so close to the Tiatami before the Babylon Project in both dealings and physical proximity, the intensity is…" Looking briefly to Anaherin, "strange, like nothing I nor others would have expected, and it has never before effected aliens."

Takashima impatiently crossed her arms, walking from one side of the commander's chair to the other, "But what is it? Why does it happen at all, whatever it is?"

"A disease." "A reminder." Delenn and Anaherin spoke simultaneously, before looking at one another surprised.

For the briefest moment, Garibaldi, still at the Centauri telepath's side, saw the alien go rigid, his breath stopping, and his gaze fixed squarely ahead, before resuming his idle but most certainly disturbed by what had come. Looking back to Doctor Kyle, gesturing at the Centauri with his eyes when he knew the medical officer was looking back at him.

The doctor understood quickly, going to the young Centauri's side and asking, "Are you alright?"

He nodded back, "Yes, I thought I was… um, it was probably just a stray thought I wasn't prepared for."

Commander Sinclair quickly asked, "And? What is it?"

"A spiritual scar." "A racial memory." The timing and how close it was, seemed to only disturb rather then frustrate.

"Ambassadors…" Sinclair warned lowly, "Answers. Now."

Anaherin sighed unhappily before looking to Delenn and shrugging, then the latter closed her eyes slowly and nodded. "Show them."

"How much?" Anaherin inquired, before asking in Minbari, "[There's seventy years' worth of dreadful moments that can shared]."

Sinclair knew only the skin deep basics of Minbari, simply by osmosis from many hundreds of briefings from the war, but he could easily hear there was a big number, something above fifty, or less then a hundred, he couldn't recall precisely what off the top of his head.

"[Of both sides, and never you forget this]." Delenn warned, before looking back at the humans behind the desk, and switching back to English, "The battles where my people thought we had truly ended yours."

Anaherin blinked, surprised by the open admission of the event. It nearly managed to erase Anaherin's desire to revel in the the smug, satisfied perversion of one of the Minbari's 'greatest victories'. Almost. The Tiatami salvaged the desire, mockingly sitting back in her seat, lifting a leg and placing it over her knee, leaning her face into a hand. "Ahhh… I enjoy this look on you my dear, my sweet. Forgive me as I try to imprint the sight to memory."

Delenn said nothing, holding back from doing so. Instead, she looked squarely ahead to the office, and squirmed slightly in her seat from a mix between discomfort and sheer rage.

"Ambassador…" Sinclair warned lowly. "with all do respect; get on with it."

Anaherin bowed her head in capitulation, "So be it." Standing, walking a pace towards the desk and pressing the crystal into the input receptacle, the screen at the back of the room flickering to life.

The screen, at first filled with static, was then briefly set alight with quick motions of images, shapes that could barely even be defined past 'it was there' with nothing discernible to the minds witness to it. "These events had occurred a thousand years ago and many of our records, while having been kept in the best condition that could be provided, time consumes all, and our records have been effected." Waiting for the video record to shuffle through the chaff, it finally rested on an image that instantly made every human's gut twist in familiarity at its first glance. Then confusion as they looked it at longer.

There were minbari vessels in orbit of an orange world, a massive, deep emerald green gas giant behind the world, in the midst of bombarding its surface, that much was clear. But they were not War Cruisers, at least not the ones that they have bore witness to. The hulls were long… not 'tall', the ships carried the same elegance that was expected of them being built by Minbari hands, but something strange carried in its design that tolled a different thought in each of their minds. In Sinclair's, 'Looks like a Hyperion with a few fins!' Then he realized just how long the Minbari have been at this, living among the stars. Space travel to humanity has only been a blink of the eye, a flicker to how long the Minbari have been around, and they're still only getting started in the time this image took place.

"While I am sure you've all wondered why we have never welcomed a diplomatic entourage to our homeworld… the truth is; we don't have one anymore." The screen flickered to what was assumed to be the same world, now grey, lifeless, a vast ring of debris from a shattered moon circling around the ruined planet. "Like you, we had our own war with the Minbari… we lost."

Sinclair looked back at the Tiatami, "Then how are you still around? If the Minbari showed half the amount of mercy they had to conquered colonies they did us, I doubt you would have any chance of avoiding extinction, let alone be a power in the galaxy."

Anaherin nodded, "We hid, our hyperspace exploration programs at the time allowed us to exist in long exile in deep, unexplored space. No charts, no maps, no civilization, my who ancestors fled there suffered long, hard lives of starvation and joylessness. Fearing to be found to their last moments." The alien seemed solemn. "Our people survived an age of false emperors that forged us into what we are now. A thousand years, and only within this last century have we risked returning to the wider galactic community."

After a moment of silence, Delenn continued, "The attack on the Tiatami homeworld left a… mark. Something that now lingers in every one of our people. We call it 'the Moment', the many hundreds of ships, millions of our warriors, billions of people who died those days leaving an echo. Anger, frustration and strange waves of foreign, long forgotten aggression strike me, as it does others. For days it has plagued me and maybe it will linger for more."

The Tiatami scoffed, "Sin marks us all, you vile blasphemers. But by virtue of our survival, we have honed ourselves to the keenest edge. However, if our client races did not hide our existence as we fled, you would have easily exterminated them without thought or whim and I doubt fate is so gracious as to bestow a similar exile we had upon another again, even on those deserving." Looking to Sinclair, "What they did to us, they had almost done to you. We call it the Sharpening."

Sinclair, in fact nearly every human in the room, seemed to be stunned from the tale. "But… how does it affect others? Why telepaths?" The commander finally asked.

"Perchance, ambassadors, how prolific were telepathic programs in your people during these times?" Doctor Kyle asked.

"They existed, although, our differing peoples did not restrict them to groups or place them into selective reproduction other than completely typical breeding contracts that any male would be given." Anaherin explained.

Garibaldi looked to Sinclair and mouthed, 'Breeding contract?' The commander gave an equally confused eye roll at the subject, not wanting to add to the already bag of cats they were contending with.

Doctor Kyle stepped forward, saying aloud, "If… the telepathic trait has been long existing to all members of both your species, is it possible, that every one or at least a majority, would have a very low telepathic ability… and if all of them, every member, were to somehow combine their efforts, could they potentially create these symptoms?" Directing the last of the inquiry to the Centauri telepath.

"I… do not know, but the theory is sound. But these emotions, sensations cannot be suddenly summoned without a reference. To inspire emotions in as wide a population, it'd take a remarkable amount of will to pull and anchor them all, as no two people emotions are never the same, never, even for highly sociable, collective species like the Gaim do not think or feel exactly alike." The telepath explained. "Perhaps… perhaps the event is desired, or expected, some how makes it easier to occur? Or maybe it… tries to draw upon previous thoughts? Memories of experiencing these emotions?"

'Memories?' Anaherin couldn't help her eyes bulge slightly at the realization. "Ben?" Asking aloud on reflex.

"What was that?" Sinclair inquired.

Anaherin blinked and nodded, "I've been… thinking about someone. All day and intensely. He… um…" Anaherin felt abashed, uncertain of what elements to reveal, what could be risk. "He was in the war."

Garibaldi squinted at the statement, "Wait, the Tiatami weren't involved with the war until the very tip end, who…" He blinked, "He was human?"

Anaherin gave a dry chuckle, "Barely. He should have been born a Tiatami."

Delenn looked at Anaherin in surprise and familiarity, "These memories, do they seem to… drown you somehow? Absorb the very moment as if your mind could do nothing else?"

Anaherin nodded, pausing briefly at how accurate the Minbari's description was. "Very much so, yes."

Delenn continued, "I was also suffering fits from forceful reverie, thoughts of the war, friends dying." Sighing deeply.

Garibaldi scoffed, "Humans just call it 'woolgathering'. So, okay, this whole deal with telepathic stuff, how do we fix it?"

Sinclair sighed, "I'm thinking, I'm thinking…" Resting his mouth against his conjoined hands, "Kyle, is there any way we can distribute these inhibiting drugs to the wider populations of Tiatami and Minbari?"

Doctor Kyle blew out air harshly and shook his head, "Even if I did have enough for all of them, the risk would be immense, there will be cases of people having to go to the infirmary and it will be a wild guess whether or not they'd all survive."

Sinclair looked to the Centauri telepath and thought aloud, "Maybe… maybe the answer to the problem is also the reason the problem happens at all… these memories, feelings, compulsions, they aren't ever lasting, correct, they eventually stop?"

Delenn and Anaherin confirmed it quickly.

"Can we… rebalance these fits with something positive? Joy, friendship, that sort of thing?"

Anaherin scoffed harshly, "Even if these bloodless Minbari could feel such things, I'd sooner sell myself into slavery then share these indulgences with… them." Waving a hand dismissively then pointing at Delenn who looked aghast at the statement.

Garibaldi raised an eyebrow and quickly said, "I thought it was called 'indentured servitude'?"

Anaherin looked back at the Security Chief, gave a small, mocking laugh before angrily hissing at him like an agitated cat, lips briefly pulled back in a snarl to reveal sharp teeth and almost tar black gums, before her features returned to the typical almost human passivity that the Tiatami had.

Delenn suggested, "Maybe… maybe we can ask for the help of others? Inspire merriment not just in the Minbari or the Tiatami, but of the whole station?"

Sinclair sighed, "We'll try to find some reason for it, but how? Who can help us somehow get not only two races that are in the throes of some thousand-year-old telepathic grudge, but make sure that other telepaths from other races aren't hit by it?" Sinclair's eyes wandered the room, desperate in thought, before locking eyes with the Centauri telepath, and he felt his mind instantly forge a path. A probable path, yes, but one still fraught with danger.

"Why are you smiling like that?" Garibaldi asked.

"I think I know the who." Sinclair nodded and smiled.

Garibaldi blinked in realization, closing his eyes and rolling his jaw, catching wind of what he meant. "Oh no."

[][]

"AHHH Commander!" Ambassador Mollari called out, quickly sipping from his glass, standing it on the bar, "How are you today? The demands of duty have been kind?"

"Hardly, but my duty is why I'm down here. Tell me, do you know about this whole issue with the Minbari and the Tiatami?"

Mollari smiled, "Oh absolutely. Reminds me of stories my grandfather talked about at the narrow end of when the Republic was still truly in charge of Narn…" He then pointed at the Commander, "The comparisons stopped when everyone else started attacking both people. Back in those days, Narn attacking us is expected, we attack back, but if the Drazi, the pak'ma'ra and whoever just decided to come by and give us a good beating just because of Maker knows what, we'd be just as confused as you are." Drinking again. "Why do you ask?"

"We'd like it to stop." Commander Sinclair nodded. "We have a good theory of how to solve there issues, at least for this run. We'd like your help."

Mollari gave a broad, toothy smile, "How can this ambassador of the Glorious Centauri Republic help? My skills aren't cheap."

"The Federation and Confederacy have agreed to float the bill, if successful."

Mollari's brow shot up, "Oh well…" He chuckled, "what service may I humbly provide?"

"As we understand, the Centauri have a holiday coming up within the next day or so, a celebration involving the internment of some old tyrant?" Sinclair inquired broadly.

Mollari gave the human a confused look, trying to recall the date, "The Dethroning of Trathis the Fifth? Fah! Ancient history, no one has celebrated that publicly for generations! What does that have to do with this?"

"It's been told to me that this celebration was lengthy and well, if you can push for two days, maybe three, I-I think you get the picture. Let's just say that these two people need to find an excuse to stop, eat, drink and make merry like back in the glory days."

Mollari scoffed, "Oh alright, if merry is to be had, merry will be made. I'll send a message to homeworld about the event, I'm sure they'll love it. And I'll send a video of it to G'kar while he's undergoing his tenth 'physical examination' the past year. I'm sure he'll love that."

[]

Abe stared at the screen for departures, "… the trip time to Earth will take nearly three weeks? God in Heaven…" He's been thirty hours over due to report back, all the couriers with expedite courses back to the general area where they'd deliver his reports to EarthDome were all delayed due to recent shenanigans, and they only became more severe after the Centauri started adding their own two-cents of madness to the pile. Granted; nowhere near as bad as what he has been experiencing, getting angry (though, thankfully, time-delayed) calls from his superiors who had deadlines that have been crossed, and he could only shrug his shoulders so many times and say, 'It isn't me! It was the crazy aliens that did it!' before they start thinking that maybe Abe was just plain incompetent at his job.

Rubbing his scalp harshly, he turned around and saw the denizens of departures quickly start to vacate into the areas just outside. Abe sighed deeply, consigned to staying on the station longer then he expected and wanted as he picked up his pack from where he was sitting and went out just to see what was happening.

Abe squinted harshly at the sight, "When did they invite a Centauri circus onto the station?"

That was the last thing Abe could remember.

The very next thing was him waking up being spooned by some weird looking four-tentacled mouth thing that smelt rank. Abe's head pounded, his mouth tasted foul, and when he tried to stand up, the tentacle thing reached its hands around his shoulder and pulled him back back down and purred.

The whole situation was already gag inducing, but the breath from the alien was beyond disgusting and made him heave and almost throw up on himself, but it forced Abe to redouble his efforts to escape, succeeding and, thankfully, not waking up the alien as he did so.

Abe recognized the common area of the station before the Zócalo quickly enough, but as he studied his surroundings he realized she wasn't alone. Along the sides, off the beaten path of the 'road' were a veritable gaggle of intoxicated denizens, suffering the aftereffects of what… 'What the hell happened anyways?' Abe looked around, agreeing that the best move right now was just to go back to his room and sleep it off, but as he looked at his watch he nearly had a stroke as he yelled, "It's been two days!?"

Several of the prone pedestrians groaned loudly from Abe's sudden surprise.

[][][]

Anaherin cursed silently as she made her way to the Eclipse Café, massaging the temples of her head, "Hello?" Asking for a bartender, "Service, are you in?"

A short, portly man with a bald scalp, long curly beard walked out and smiled at the Tiatami, "First one up. How you doing?"

"Preferring getting my brains bashed out by a Minbari from a thousand year old suable at this point… you?" Anaherin took a seat at the café bar.

"Glad I was on shift when all this happened! Coffee, tea?" Bob smiled.

"Tiatam Airag, warm, with a spike of salt-water mixed in please."

"Bit early in the day for this. This 'the hair of the dog'?"

Anaherin waved dismissively at the statement, "Forgive me, I lose track of human sayings constantly. This is merely to lessen the effects of veisalgia."

Bob confirmed the order and left to arrange it. Anaherin sighed, the silence a welcome remedy to soothe her beating head. "This is a sign from the universe, while the humans are crazy, the Centauri are worse." Anaherin muttered.

"Yeah, tell me about it." A newcomer shocked Anaherin out of her thoughts, making her snap her gaze to the right.

"Chief Garibaldi?"

"Morning, ambassador." Sitting at the stool next to her's just in time for Bob to deliver Anaherin's beverage, saying to the bartender, "My usual."Bob wordlessy retreated back into the kitchen. "Surprised to see you up and about, saw you having more then a little drink these past couple days."

Anaherin nodded, placing a hand on her chest lazily, "As a lady of the Red Star cabal, I have to be the wittiest, toughest member of my people on the station. Not too unlike your position in security, setting an example for those under your command." Sipping at her beverage and smacking her lips contently.

"'With', not under. And trust me, I fumbled quite a few times and my guys have picked me because I do the same for them." Garibaldi explained as the bar tender placed a clear, iceless glass of water in front of the security chief.

"Brave. Very… human." Anaherin admitted. "Don't trust in trust, it'll get you killed someday no matter what planet you're from." She looked over, "Are you going to get the party goers ready to go home?"

Garibaldi shook his head, "Nah, just making sure nobody gets hurt, waking up hungover puts people on the wrong side of the bed," chuckling, "No matter what planet you're from, trust me I know."

Anaherin couldn't disagree with that. Sipping again from her airag, the silence returning.

Garibaldi looked over after drinking his own glass, "What happened to your friend… Ben was it?"

Anaherin looked down solemnly, "BenjaminJakaecado. He died. He was one of your ground warriors, first few months of the conflict." Drinking deeply from her cup, "He was garrisoned at Proxima-Three."

Garibaldi bit his lip, not sure what to other then: "I'm sorry." He then shrugged, "GROPO huh?"

Anaherin smiled widely, the wave of a dozen memories of her companion washing through her mind like the comforting warmth of a bath after a long and arduous day. "Yes, that's what they called themselves." Nodding lightly, "I…" She realized her hesitation, her weakness and quickly inhaled, lessening her grin and sitting straight up, "He was a good man. Deserved a better death."

"A better death? Yeah right." Garibaldi rolled his eyes at the statement.

"What? There isn't an ideal situation where you'd pass into your human-afterlife?" Anaherin scoffed.

"Yeah. Fat, very old, lazy, surrounded by grandkids I don't recognize." Garibaldi looked about the room in thought before adding, "Or in bed with some hot blonde, I can't decide."

Anaherin was in mid sip, sputter her beverage, coughing harshly. "Tltri's teats!"

"You okay?" Garibaldi chuckled.

"Yes, just… human humor is so spontaneous, 'out of left field' as you say. Our topic was fairly grim but the sudden joviality was… enjoyable and unexpected. Humans are often so dour with the subject." Anaherin wiped her mouth the back of her hand.

"Varies from human to human, and I'm a weird one so don't expect similarities too often, gallows humor isn't exactly common." Garibaldi gestured for his check, the credit reader being readied and him sliding his card in, looking back to the Zócolo, "Looks like the natives are beginning to stir, stay safe… and don't be afraid to joke around with humans, even if some of us are sticks in the mud."

Anaherin nodded in thanks, "We share this trait aplenty, human." Reminding Garibaldi of his nature, as the subject seemed to be going past an acceptable level of personal. "You stay safe as well."

Not a second after he left, a familiar face took the seat opposite of the security chief, "Ah, Abe Jones! Wonderful to see you." Anaherin pointed her glass his way as the disheveled delegate dropped his head on the bar as if his cranium were made of lead and was exceptionally weary of carrying it. "Enjoyable night?"

"Fragging kill me…" Abe groaned.

Anaherin's brow raised in curiosity, "I assume that your work has been more or less successful?"

Abe scoffed, "Yeah, and if I've seen anything here to change my opinion of aliens, it's been lost in the haze of the last two days… you guys are nuts, and things are only going to get worse for us back home. And now I'm party to it from my damn job. We should just stay in our own star system and kept you freaks off our lawn."

Anaherin stared vacantly at the man for a moment before drinking the rest of her beverage. "Many of your people would disagree with you."

"Many of them are living on this god forsaken station or the colonies. They want to leave Earth for this? Then they can have it." Abe muttered, burying his face in his arm.

Anaherin sighed, "You sound like a good many of the cabals back at home. We're more alike then you think. Likely even more then I know."

"I know that as a certainty." Abe scoffed, lifting his head and glaring daggers at Anaherin, "Slavery, wars, disregard for common decency and individual rights? Humans got enough of that from ourselves, we don't need your baggage to the pile already on our backs."

Anaherin had the distinct impression that Abe wouldn't be swayed to believe the contrary to his beliefs in a single conversation and sighed, and knew drawing it out over a period of time would be pointless due to his duties demanding that he leave the station soon. "Too bad, we're here to stay and your job is making it a certainty." Anaherin then smiled, "A friend of mine taught me this saying from your world; 'Suck it up, buttercup'." Anaherin gestured for the bartender's attention, to pay and leave, departing from the 'merry' company she had hoped to sway to her side, not only professionally then also in terms of personal sympathy.

Humans are easy to tempt, she discovered relatively early on with Ben, but only if they desire to be. 'I was wrong, this human certainly doesn't seem to desire this.' Strange that they sent the man whom apparently wanted contrary to what his superiors demanded, 'A Tiatami would have sooner sought outside their own Cabal or to even one of the wandering Dynasties for the goal to be successfully accomplished if even a hint of treachery was suspected from the agent they sent.'

Her thoughts were so focused on this subject that Anaherin's journey to the medlab was a haze, barely being able to recall the details in how distracted the Tiatami was. Taking liberty to merely walk into the place without any prior introduction to Doctor Kyle; Anaherin made her way to where she saw Nala lay last.

The startled gasp Anaherin made when she saw the Vorlon looming over the resting Nala sounded almost lime a scream.

It was loud enough to warrant a nurse's attention around the corner, whom quickly made his way around to where the three beings were and squinted at Kosh then to Anaherin. "I uh, ambassadors, please would you-"

"Get that thing away from Nala this instance!" Anaherin ordered, pointing at the Vorlon.

"I-I'm sorry ma'am, I didn't know he was in here." Walking towards the aloof alien, back still turned to the pair, towering over both in its mammoth encounter suit. "I apologize ambassador, but unless you are here for an emergency or otherwise medical reasons, you must leave this area."

Anaherin wanted to voice how pathetic of a protest the man made was, but she could barely breath from how terrified she was from the Vorlon may do if she did anything deemed to hostile.

The Vorlon seemed to take the warning with earnest deliberation, briefly looking the nurse's way before turning around wordlessly and beginning to 'walk' to the exit, but as it did so maintained a focused leer on Anaherin, stopping briefly at her flank to do so. The Tiatami was uncertain what it wanted, and fear gripped her mind, holding it at her feet and making her unable to think of anything to say or do. 'God help you if that Void looks back.'

Anaherin stared back at the Vorlon, just as silent.

The exchange last barely five seconds but for Anaherin it felt like hours. The Vorlon, still as silent as before, left medlab. Giving a ragged, desperate sigh from a breath she didn't know she was holding in, Anaherin turned to see Nala, unharmed, sleeping comfortably on the bed. Anaherin wanted to smile but was still too terrified to put in the effort, instead, looked to the nurse and said, "Thank you for that… I am here to pick Nala up, will she be able to walk?"

The nurse nodded, "Yes, but she will be fatigued for a few days and we've sent you the pain medication until she fully heals."

Anaherin made the necessary signatures, assurances and confirmations in order to get her charge removed from human care. When they woke Nala, she was barely aware, the Tiatami led her back to their quarters where the young human was guided back to her own bed, and fell asleep almost immediately. Mumbling, "You'll help… you'll always help…" Anaherin dismissed it, thinking Nala was talking about the doctors or one of the nurses, the Tiatami brushed the hair out of Nala's face and away from the instrument that held the human's broken nose in place.

The ambassador then sent report to the heartlands about the recent goings on, but may have refrained from certain particular elements of which were of an immensely personal nature that the Ilway of the Red Star Cabal needed to know of. Recalling the events of today, she looked to her own bed chamber, found herself before a chest, pressing her thumb to the lock, it opened with a click. Out she pulled a a rough, uneven cruciate, featureless jakam wood carving. The one thing she had left of Ben's, made in his long period under her Battle Ark's care. It represented some kind of divine force among humans but apparently it was one of many such principles of their race.

'Carved it one handed too.' Anaherin recalled, still impressed by the feat. 'You're dead. You know that. What ghost the events may have conjured you into these past days; it was undeserved and unneeded. You should enjoy the rest, you've earned it.' Anaherin dare not say this prayer aloud, not just for the vague possibility that Nala may hear it, but to deny her own ears from hearing it. Making it less… real, to deny herself the obnoxious truth staring her in the face.

The damned humans changed everything, including her.

][][][

So this particular idea has been popping in and out of my head for a year now. At first it started off with being told about the new Lord of the Rings Amazon show, which of course reminded me that Babylon 5 exists and needed to be re-watched.

More specifically; how certain elements work better in one then the other, and what elements are vacant all together, or more so one in particular: who would be the 'Orcs to the Minbari's Elves'.

Took one google search to see a theory that the Drahk may (again, MAY) be a genetically altered sub-species that the Shadows made from Minbari stock. They share many similarities, but just as many differences, some of which may seem like 'perversions' of Minbari culture and their castes, especially if one goes into the RPG tabletop stuff. And boy do I love this idea. It brings a delicious tragedy to their existence and how they were once returning to Minbari space.

So that answers that question. But left another.

Who are the dwarves to their elves?

At first I thought humans served this, as a dual purpose of being the, uh well, the humans.

They bicker, they hold grudges to one another, and they have beef caused before the main story takes place, but seeing as they are also the humans, and many human characters are quite accepting of Minbari (just look at the Ranger's for gods sake), it felt like a puzzle piece you really have to… shove into place. It fits sure, but there's a lot of effort and confusion involved.

So I thought 'they probably just killed them at the end of the Shadow War'. Then the idea of what they would be like in antithesis to the Minbari has been steadily… teasing me, until I made the Tiatami. It'd be a facsimile of the Narn-Centauri relationship, but over a much LONGER period of time to cool, to change the people involved. How would they survive? What were their relationships with the Shadows like (if they were allied with them in the first place)? Can I make an enemy, antagonist to the Minbari, but also a rival to their ideas instead of a parody of them, then mix in how the other races take it, especially humans. As a result, I gave the Tiatami a mix of features, notably the mix between the demonic features to clash with the Minbari's more celestial or ethereal ones, and mixing in the modern interpretations of the Orcs from say Warcraft and Dungeons and Dragons (tusks, muscles n' mass and all those good things but only for the men, the women just get pointy teeth).

And besides, I was happy to have an excuse to watch B5 again.

Also still happy that the Intellectual Property hasn't gone through a reboot.

CHECKS INTERNET

Well fu-

PS. I tried to bade Anaherin's appearance off of Salli Richardson (I had the biggest crush on her when Eureka first came out). Not sure if I got it right, but the referral might help a little with visualization. Just… you know… horny.