Mindgames Part 1 

"Neroon!" Delenn tried calling him back, but to no avail.

Hearing her soft, but demanding voice coming from behind him, Neroon continued to walk out of the ceremony without looking back even once. He had thrown the blood-covered pike at her feet; a glint of envious hate in his dark eyes. He wanted so desperately what Delenn had, absolute trust and devotion from the rangers.

He had growled the words that acknowledged her new position, Entil'Zha. Because he never looked back, he missed seeing the astonishment, no indignation, on Delenn's face as she stared at the pike at her feet. Neither did he see the terrified expression on her aide's face; Lennier was dreadfully worried for Marcus.

Now that the ceremony was over Lennier hurried away, not noticing the silent rebuke from Delenn who needed an explanation so badly. No one followed him; he was pleased at that. He had to find Marcus.

Delenn was at a loss. What had happened? Why did Neroon insist there was now blood between them? Between the Warrior Caste and the humans? A terrible suspicion crept into her mind. There could only be blood between them if it was a human's blood on that pike. Her eyes searched the room in frightful apprehension. Where was Marcus?

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Neroon forced back a pain filled moan. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, the sore wound on his brow began to sting. The human Ranger had surprised him and the warrior berated himself for being so careless to let his guard down. He failed in properly centering his thoughts. They were disturbed by images of Delenn wearing a Ranger pin and the muffled sounds of pain coming from the human as he had broken three of his ribs one by one, slowly, methodically. The Ranger had fought well. He had to admit that. Though his throbbing headache clouded his mind, the foolish Denn'Sha challenge haunted him.

A human had challenged him! It had been an absolute shock. As the Ranger had opened his pike, Neroon had realized that the human intended to stop him at all cost, even if the price would be his own life. The truth had stared back at him from the depths of those green eyes which had been clouded by fear and determination. The human challenged me, knowing he would die there in the obscure darkness, knowing better than to expect mercy from me.

He had spoken harsh words on purpose. Mocking the Ranger, trying to frighten him off, yet the human had never shown any weakness. I killed fifty thousand of you during the war, what is one more? Stopping in his tracks to pull the hood over his head, he asked himself that same question yet again. So why did not I kill him? The fight was to the death and yet, no matter how badly I injured him, I turned away and left him there alive -- in pain-- but alive. Has the Ranger already succumbed to his wounds? Why am I this concerned for him? Master Durhann trained him well, but he must have known he could not win. I have to admit that he blocked many of my attacks and even managed to aim some very good blows to my legs and head. I will never again underestimate a human. I underestimated Sinclair once. It is a good thing I sharpened my fighting skills after that embarrassing incident.

He knew he had to end this absurd conversation he was having with himself. Why was his conscience acting up like this? He found the answer in his soul; he admired the human's fluid grace, even the desperation in his eyes. The ranger reminded him of himself when he had been young. He had challenged a lot of his teachers during training; even master Durhann himself and bested him. And yet I feel defeated by this human. His answer still rings in my mind; for her....We live for the One, we die for the One...Itzal Zha veni, In Valen's name. The human defeated him at that moment. Neroon never expected him to call out Valen's name; a human had proven to be more of a Minbari than he was. Hopefully Delenn was worthy of such trust and devotion.

I should go back and tend to his wounds. By not treating him as a fellow warrior, I am dishonoring myself. As he tried to silence that admonishing voice inside his mind, he knew it was speaking the truth. He was shaming himself and his clan by leaving the Ranger behind like this. The human had earned the right to be treated like one of his own. His feet were already carrying him back to the tunnels where he had fought the human. He must have had help in finding me. I had gone into hiding, waiting for the right moment to make my move. --The element of surprise is essential in dealing with a powerful and well-protected adversary --. He would never have been able to find me without help.

Pushing open the door that gave entry to the maze of tunnels in the section the humans called Down Below, Neroon tried to orientate himself. A stench of fresh blood led him through the tunnels; it was the Ranger's blood. How can I help him? I do not tend wounds, I create them.  Wait, he had seen a map of the station's facilities. There was a Medlab here. The doctors could take care of the Ranger, then he would leave and return to his war cruiser.

Approaching the site of the fight, Neroon wondered about the strange noises he was picking up. Muffled cries, the sound of skin being slapped... Something was definitely wrong. His instincts told him to run; not to waste any more time. Whatever was going on down there, he had to find out what it was.

An attacker suddenly appeared out of nowhere. Neroon identified his assailant; a male Centauri. Realizing he had no time for this, Neroon pushed him out of his way and the attacker fell to the floor. A desperate need to know coursed through the Minbari as he turned left. It was here where the Ranger had appeared from behind him; completely surprising him.

Neroon froze. Another Centauri who had managed to get some handcuffs around the human's wrists had forced the ranger onto his stomach. It looked like he had caught them trying to abduct the ranger. But why? What would Centauri want with a human? Neroon tried to move, but too late did he hear the other Centauri creeping up to him. The attacker gripped his head in a tight lock. The man chuckled, addressing his partner.    

"Look, Ranan!" the Centauri exclaimed amused," our first customer arrived. No Minbari, you'll have to wait with bidding until we have him properly trained. We only sell slaves who have learned obedience."

Growling his disgust and anger, Neroon tried to break free. The Ranger managed to look up and Neroon saw the tightly controlled fear in his eyes as the Centauri tried to haul him to his feet, yanking at the manacles. The Centauri's harsh voice made the human cringe, Neroon groaned.

"Human..." the Centauri purred. "When I'm through with you, you'll beg me not to sell you, but to keep you myself. "

The human tried hard to resist, fighting off the Centauri, but the broken ribs were hindering him. Mentally cursing himself, Neroon found the power to break free from this hold at last. Slamming one Centauri against the wall, the Minbari charged toward the other one. Now that he was closer, he saw that the human's wrists had been brutally slit open by the too small handcuffs; crimson blood tainting white skin. The Minbari was determined to cross the Centauri's loathsome plans. 

Slavery of any kind was something Neroon abhorred and the fact that Centauri roamed the universe to find suitable slaves wasn't something the warrior tolerated. The warrior knew he had to act now, seeing the glazed expression in the Ranger's eyes; he had probably suffered a concussion during their fight. Although helpless, the human refused to plead for his help, but he saw the silent question in his eyes.

"Neroon..." The human locked eyes with him. The Ranger was hardly capable of speech. Knowing the pressure on his broken ribs had to be excruciating, Neroon realized the human was unable to defend himself. This is all my fault; I left him here in this crime-infested part of the station. Grabbing the Centauri's shoulders, Neroon didn't care about hurting him; the thought that this creature was touching, -- hurting -- the human was enough to push him over the edge.

Keeping one eye on the Ranger, Neroon pulled the Centauri away from the human who dropped to the floor, deprived of any strength to stay on his feet. He lay absolutely still, no movement at all. Neroon wanted to end this quickly so he could take him to the medical facility. Releasing the anger he had controlled up to this moment, Neroon knocked the Centauri out cold; sending him crashing into the wall, hard. A pain filled moan left the Centauri's lips. Satisfied both assailants were now unconscious, he hurried to check on the Ranger.

Kneeling down beside him, Neroon thanked Valen he had been in time to prevent the human from being kidnapped; from being sold into slavery. His eyes were drawn to the Ranger's, noticing the pain in those eyes. They remained locked on him, refusing to close just yet. Neroon felt vulnerable. Since Branmer's death, he had never wanted to place his trust in someone else; never wanted to care for another living being. A Minbari warrior was told that he was dead already, but as the human's eyes burned his very soul, they made him feel alive. I am falling in love with him....Fell in love with him the moment he bested me, shattering all my beliefs.

Carefully, Neroon turned him onto his side. Agony showed in the human's eyes as he was forced to move his body. His gauntlets were quickly being covered with blood, but he didn't care. The Ranger wanted to speak, but then hesitated. Neroon wondered how it was possible that the human was still conscious after this ordeal.

"Neroon?" The Ranger's voice was filled with disbelief as he managed to choke out the few words. " You... helped me?"

The words came out as a mixture of a whisper and a moan. The sheer wonder in them was enough to chain his mind to the human's eyes. "Yes, and I will take care of you." Neroon never expected to hear the softness in his own voice. "Now close your eyes and let go." Where did those words come from? From a place he never knew existed himself? Surprised to hear his own words, Neroon knew he was making the right decision. He would keep his promise and help the Ranger, if the human wanted his help. He watched the Ranger give into the pain, which was racking his battered body, closing his eyes, losing consciousness at last. Neroon hoped the human no longer felt any pain.

His instincts warned him that someone was close and he let go of the Ranger. Jumping to his feet, he looked into the shocked eyes of Delenn's aide. What was his name? Lennier.

"We need to take him to Medlab." The young Minbari's voice shook.

Neroon realized Lennier was also concerned for the human, but also saw distrust of him in Lennier's eyes. "Lead the way. I will carry him."

Sitting down on his heels, Neroon gathered the Ranger once more in his arms. The human's uniform was already soaked with blood. He slipped his arms around him and was surprised to find he could lift the Ranger like a child. Was this low bodyweight normal for a human? The metal of the manacles glittered as a beam of light hit them. Freeing the Ranger of them was something that could be done later.

Lennier beckoned him to hurry and Neroon followed him through the tunnels. Warm blood found its way into his gloves. The Ranger's head rested against his shoulder and Neroon saw the marks his pike had left there. Clutching the unconscious human in his arms, Neroon ran after Lennier wondering why it took so long to get to the medical facility. Suddenly, he was surrounded by humans, fussing about, pulling the Ranger from his arms. They placed him on a gurney and left the room with him.

 Slowly, Neroon pulled off his in blood-covered gauntlets, only to find that his hands were stained with warm blood as well. Losing track of time, he silently sat in the waiting area. Vaguely, he registered Lennier leaving and returning again after a short period of time had elapsed. "Lennier? What is his name?"

Lennier immediately knew whom Neroon was referring to. "Marcus." Studying the warrior closely, Lennier wondered about the sudden change. Neroon appeared truly shaken and he wondered why. Was it because of the Denn'Sha challenge? Lennier dismissed that idea. No, Neroon could have easily killed Marcus. And why does he want to know Marcus' name in the first place? Why this show of concern? Forcing himself to concentrate on his task, Lennier remembered Delenn's instructions not to leave Neroon alone. She had been extremely concerned to hear what had really transpired during the ceremony. Lennier had listened impatiently to her instructions, noticing the upset tone in her voice. Sheridan had tried not to meddle in Delenn's sermon, but Lennier had seen the gratitude in his eyes for keeping her safe.

Neroon realized that Lennier somehow knew what he was struggling with and the warrior hated showing his weakness this openly. I am a warrior, I must act like one. Neroon saw a shaken expression on Lennier's face.

Lennier still hadn't recovered from the shock of finding out that Marcus had almost died down there. He had been the one who had asked Marcus to stop Neroon. But he had also told the Ranger to avoid a direct confrontation. Marcus could have used other ways to achieve his goal. Lennier never considered the possibility of Marcus challenging Neroon to the death; he was surprised the Ranger knew of that Warrior Caste tradition. He almost died because I was afraid to break a promise. I should have thought of another way to stop Neroon. I should have known Marcus would do something like this.

Embarrassed, Neroon watched his own hands tremble slightly. Would the human, --Marcus-- recover from the inflicted injuries?

"Neroon?"

It took him a while to realize that Lennier was trying to get his attention. Bracing himself, Neroon looked up into his eyes. The warrior knew he must have a similar shocked expression in his eyes. Lennier's voice startled him.

"Please accept these," Lennier said kindly. " I could not find any other clothing that might fit you."

The robes were white; Religious Caste. There had been a time that Neroon would have refused to wear them, but now he accepted the offer. He was determined not to reveal any more of his mixed feelings; not comfortable being this obvious. "Thank you, these will do." Taking them from Lennier's hands, Neroon wondered how the Ranger was doing. He hadn't held back while fighting him and Neroon knew he had succeeded in hitting Marcus' head very hard. He remembered the chill to his tone as he had mocked the Ranger. I have just broken two of your ribs, no, make that three. Casting a look at Lennier, Neroon wondered if the young Minbari would be willing to answer some questions. But Lennier was the one to speak first.

"There is a bathroom where you can clean up and change your clothing." Lennier beckoned to his right.

Neroon got to his feet and opened the door. He sighed and washed his hands with cold water. The blood came off rather easily. Peeling off his uniform, Neroon looked at the robes waiting for him, mocking him. He once thought he had felt a calling for the Religious Caste, but had quickly dismissed that idea. It had only been a temporary whim, not something to take serious. Feeling secure now he wasn't in Lennier's line of sight, he softly called out to him from the bathroom. "Lennier, can I ask you a personal question?" This is the next step to your madness, Neroon. Asking Delenn's aide to reveal personal, confidential information. Slipping into the robes, Neroon adjusted them and felt distinctly uncomfortable for reasons he didn't want to explore.

"Depends on the question."

Neroon stifled a grin. Delenn had taught Lennier well. Perhaps she was the right person to lead the ranger after all. "This human Ranger, this Marcus..." His voice faltered as Neroon saw his face reflected in the mirror above the sink. There was blood on his face as well. He recalled that he had been in the midst of asking Lennier a question and forced himself to continue. "Is there someone in particular we should inform of his condition?" Neroon cursed himself for being such a coward. He had intended to ask Lennier whether the ranger was involved with someone. Wiping the last bit of blood from his skin, Neroon dried his hands at last.

He walked back into the waiting area. There was a very odd expression in Lennier's eyes and Neroon suddenly realized that this young Minbari had figured out his secret. He had to be much more careful in future.

"I contacted Delenn and Security already," Lennier told him in a calm voice. "They apprehended the Centauri. Mr. Allen assured me he was going to find the key to those handcuffs. Delenn and the Captain are on their way over here."

Trying hard to hide his insecurity, Neroon wondered if he could push further. Should he? Did he dare? "His liaison?" There was definitely a faint chuckle in Lennier's eyes and Neroon felt like he was being toyed with. He hated that feeling. It was hard to remain composed.           

"Marcus is not involved with anyone."

The words opened a door in his heart; a possibility unfolded. Maybe he had a chance of winning Marcus' love. It had been ages since he had taken a lover. Wavering between hope and fear, Neroon tried to decide what to say, what to do. He didn't expect to see Delenn and the Captain enter Medlab so soon; a concerned expression on both their faces. Delenn was the most upset of the two of them. It does her credit to care for one of her Rangers this deeply... Perhaps I misjudged her. I have been wrong before... I was wrong about Marcus.

"Neroon?" Delenn stormed into the waiting room, accompanied by the Captain. "I demand to know what is going on here!"

Her voice spoke of authority and Neroon understood why the Rangers would want to follow her. She possessed an uncanny charisma, which a lot of people would find attractive. Neroon didn't, never had. She wanted an explanation? She could get one. "I was on my way to challenge your right to lead the Rangers, when Marcus intercepted me. He challenged me to Denn'Sha and I accepted the challenge. We fought. The blood on the pike that I threw at your feet is his. I am surprised though your aide did not tell you yet. "

Lennier told me, but I want to hear you say it. Delenn glared at the warrior. She had known he wanted to stop her, but she hadn't really believed he wanted to kill her. Intimidate her, frighten her, yes, but to kill her? Had Neroon's arrogance become this grand that he wasn't bothered any more with the idea of killing one of his own? Or didn't he consider her one of his own kind after she went through the changes that had made her partly human? But there was another question burning her lips. If Neroon had been that determined to kill her, why had he allowed Marcus to stop him? Delenn knew Marcus was an excellent pike fighter, best of his class, but she also knew he was no match for Neroon. What had happened down there that had urged Neroon to show mercy? She had to ask that question. "Why did you not kill him? Denn'Sha cannot be stopped until one of the fighters dies."

During the verbal sparring, Sheridan forced himself to stay quiet. No matter how much he wanted to intervene, this was something Delenn had to resolve. He could only be a silent support. Studying the awesome warrior, Sheridan wondered what had possessed Marcus to take on the monster. The bundled strength, the flexing muscles, showed clearly beneath the robes. Marcus had never had a chance. Had  he known about this threat, he would have asked Michael to secure the area before beginning the ceremony. Damn, why had Delenn to keep things from him!

"It is hard to explain, Delenn," Neroon replied honestly. "Marcus convinced me not to kill him, and to let you live." The soft look in her eyes took Neroon aback for one moment. Was it gratitude he read in them?

"Then I must extent my gratitude to Marcus." Her voice softened. "The doctor told me he is in surgery currently?"

"Yes. His injuries were rather serious..." Neroon tried to continue, but it was hard to admit he had acted dishonorably in abandoning the severely wounded human in Down Below. But the truth would be revealed in the end anyway. He could run, but not hide. "After I talked to you, I returned to Down Below. I had to make sure Marcus was going to live. Upon my return I discovered two Centauri males who were trying to carry him off; intending to sell him as a slave. I was only just in time to prevent that from happening. I dread to think what might have happened had I not returned." Strangely detached, Neroon watched Delenn's growing concern. The Captain supported her as they sat down and he saw the mutual trust and love in their touch. Jealousy clamped around his heart as Neroon realized that he might never have what they had; love. Sheridan's voice broke the awkward silence.

"Then we should thank you for helping Marcus." The Captain's gaze was inquisitive.     

Neroon realized he could grow to like the man. What am I thinking? Liking humans? Suddenly, Neroon realized why Lennier had been down there as well. The words left his lips before he realized it. "You told him where to find me, Lennier." It was a statement and Neroon noticed the startled expression in Lennier's eyes. He was right.

"Lennier!" Delenn interrupted Neroon, obviously upset. "I told you not to interfere." She had told him to keep silent about Neroon. Almost immediately she regretted having spoken out aloud that quickly. Lennier had only been concerned for her well-being. The young Minbari looked like he wanted to run out of the room. As Delenn shifted her gaze she saw the same expression on Neroon's face. But there was more... She assumed someone else wouldn't notice the gleam in those dark eyes, but she had known Neroon for too long. Again she asked herself; what had truly transpired during their fight? Why was Neroon this upset? Lennier's answer forced her to stop pondering.

"You told me not to tell any one from the chain of command," Lennier said a bit defensively. " Marcus is not part of it."

"He could have died, Lennier. I do not want him to die for me." The new Ranger One sounded sad as she stared into her aide's eyes.

Neroon crooked his head. That was the strangest comment he had ever heard from a Ranger One; he couldn't keep quiet. "Delenn, they live and die for the One." Neroon emphasized that word involuntarily. She had to understand.

" I know, but Marcus... Lennier, you know that I suspect him of having a death wish." 

Delenn 's concern clearly showed and Neroon listened hungrily to every word they spoke. He never expected to find out the Ranger had a death wish. The look on Delenn's face and the feel of the robes on his skin made him uncomfortable; everything seemed so wrong. He should be onboard the Ingata now on his way home to Minbar. Instead he was here, waiting for news about a human. 

Sheridan's voice broke the silence. "What are we going to do now?"

Neroon had been asking himself the same question, but hesitated to answer it. This was Delenn's decision, not his, even though he wanted it to be his... An unbidden flash of Marcus stumbling backwards, made him aware how worried he was. He had to know the ranger was going to make a full recovery... Perhaps even guide him back to health. No, I have to stop thinking that way. I will only be disappointed in the end.

"We best wait for Doctor Hobbs to inform us about the surgery he is having." Delenn's tone was determined. "There is not much we can do besides waiting."

Neroon agreed; Delenn was right.

"I wished Stephen were here, stupid walkabout idea." The Captain felt concerned for both his friends.

The door opened and Doctor Hobbs entered the room; a very disturbed look on her face. "Captain, Delenn... Lennier... " She sounded tired.

Neroon realized she didn't know his name, so he simply nodded; acknowledging her presence.

"I had to operate on him," the doctor explained." Marcus has three broken ribs, a severe concussion and he's slipping into a coma."

"Coma?" Delenn whispered, "that's bad, isn't it?"

Neroon's heart thumped hard, hearing Delenn's question.

"I'm not sure. It could be his way of dealing with being in a life threatening situation, it could be the severity of the concussion." Doctor Hobbs paused momentarily, then continued her explanation." I put him on Andralon, a drug that should prevent him from slipping deeper into the coma. We'll have to wait and see if it works."

Delenn caught the startled expression in Neroon's eyes; an expression the warrior failed to hide. Perhaps she could ease his and her own mind a little. "Doctor Hobbs, would you permit us to see Marcus for a moment?" Delenn wanted to see for herself how Marcus was doing.

Slowly, Neroon shifted his gaze from the Doctor to Delenn. Would she allow him to accompany her?

"Yes, but only for a few minutes and not all of you; two at most," Doctor Hobbs replied after thinking it over for a moment.

Too proud to ask Delenn if he could be the one to accompany her, Neroon waited for her answer. He saw the look she exchanged with Sheridan, the almost invisible nod of consent the Captain gave her. Delenn's words took him by surprise.

"Neroon, are you coming?"

He tried to raise his old mask of indifference; was he so transparent that they all saw through his pretence? Resolutely, he rose to his feet and followed Delenn out of the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Beeps coming from the medical devices to which the ranger was hooked up to made Neroon shiver momentarily. As he took in Marcus' appearance, he heard Delenn suck in her breath. Eyes closed, Marcus merely seemed to be asleep, but he knew about the extent of the injures only too well. He followed Delenn as she approached the bed, but respectfully kept his distance as she stroked the Ranger's hand.

Delenn had to convince herself that Marcus was still alive; she needed to feel a pulse and warm skin, a testimony of his current state. The degrading manacles had been removed, leaving cut, raw and bloody skin as their legacy.

Hesitantly, Neroon took another step closer to the bed, then remained still. He was close enough to see that the Ranger was breathing regularly. What worried him was the amount of IV's he was hooked up to, disappearing underneath the skin of his hands. Soft footfalls coming from behind told him that Doctor Hobbs was now in the room as well.

Scrupulously aware of his own disconcerted state of mind, the warrior knew he had to search for answers to the questions in his heart; to find order in the raging chaos. This was a time of change and he needed to deal with it properly. Although he had never liked the exaggerated fondness the Religious Caste displayed for rituals, he knew this was a time for applying those rituals. It was time for a purification of his mind; the Faragh Alzar and it needed to be done now. "Delenn, I would ask a favor of you... And of you, Doctor."

It was hard for Delenn to free her eyes from the battered form in front of her, but she heard the urgency in Neroon's voice. She really didn't want to deal with the warrior's incertitude right now; not when Marcus was slipping away from them into a coma, but she had no choice. Not dealing with Neroon's problems could result in even a bigger entanglement of his emotions. Perhaps now he would accept her guidance, her advice. With a smothered sigh, she turned around to face the warrior. Stunned, she noticed his glazed eyes; glazed with what? A need to know overcame her. "What is it, Neroon?"

"I call for the Faragh Alzar; I have to create order in the chaos of my mind, " Neroon stated resolutely. "I want to stay here at his side to ponder the change that is taking place in my life. I need to honor a fellow warrior by watching over him."

The surprise in Delenn's eyes was evident as he locked eyes with her. Neroon knew he couldn't enforce his request. Once more it was her decision. Hearing the Doctor shuffle her feet behind him, the warrior knew she was going to speak.

"Delenn, Marcus needs rest."

Pondering Neroon's request, Delenn felt amazed he actually appealed for her support. He appeared to be serious and Delenn wavered. Her eyes returned to look upon Marcus and she made her decision that instant. This was a great opportunity for Neroon to grow spiritually. She wished for Neroon to become aware of the changes, to see his road unfold. Delenn faced the warrior once more, needing confirmation. "You won't interfere with his treatment or hurt him? "

Feeling a bit sad because Delenn obviously didn't trust him, Neroon shook his head. The ritual demanded of him to meditate most of the time. He wouldn't bother the Ranger. Pinning down the Doctor's gaze with his eyes, Neroon tried to sound as sincere as he felt. "I merely ask to stay in this room near the one who brought this change upon me."

Looking past the warrior, Delenn pleadingly gazed at Doctor Hobbs. "If Neroon would stay here, would he hinder Marcus' recovery in any way?"

Sensing the doctor's crumbling reluctance, Neroon grew faintly hopeful. Together with this feeling of hope a strange wonder came over him. He wanted to understand these humans. They were like no other race he had ever encountered before. Maybe the Ranger's physical closeness would aid him in finding a solution as he was about to face his contradicting emotions.

"This goes against my better judgement," Doctor Hobbs silently muttered," but if it's necessary I'm willing to let you stay. But understand, Neroon, I will have you removed from this room the moment I think your presence disturbs Marcus."

"I understand," Neroon nodded. "I will keep to myself and out of your way."

Delenn beckoned the Doctor closer, while Neroon sat down in a corner of the room, cross-legged, eyes closed, trying to let himself fall into the familiar surroundings of a trance-like state. "Doctor, please contact me should need arise," Delenn said. "I do not think Neroon wants to harm Marcus, or hinder his recovery, but one never knows what might happen."

"I honestly don't think there is much harm he can do; Marcus is unconscious," Doctor Hobbs whispered; the look on her face was hard to decipher, "I'm not sure though I want him around the moment Marcus regains consciousness."

Delenn waited politely for the Doctor to finish her sentence, then addressed her. "How long will we have to wait for Marcus to come back to us? If I remember correctly, the longer a person is in a coma the more unlikely it will be he will ever wake up."

"That's true, Delenn." A sigh left the Doctor's lips. "And that's why I put him on Andralon; to prevent him from slipping away even deeper. "

Their words made Neroon feel burdened. This was the result of his handiwork. Finally he let go off the last thread that tied him to reality --Marcus-- and allowed himself to drift lower into himself, searching for the tranquil serenity that lay deep within his soul.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Several hours later, Neroon had succeeded in attaining his normal calmness. Like a detached spectator he observed the images in his mind which showed him a replay of his earlier actions. No longer overly emotional, Neroon began to investigate his reasons for letting Marcus live.

Slowly opening his eyes, he studied the unconscious human lying in the exam bed. A few moments ago, Doctor Hobbs had checked on her patient. Neroon had noticed the relief on her face upon finding him still seated on the floor, seemingly oblivious to her ministrations as she had re-hooked Marcus to new IV's, removing the empty ones.

Blood and fluids, he was able to identify those liquids as they made their way through the transparent tubes into Marcus' body. His newly found tranquillity was disturbed as Mr. Garibaldi entered the room. He sensed Garibaldi's annoyance at finding him here and decided to ignore the snarl coming from the Chief's lips, threatening to order him out of the room should he find it necessary. Control, Neroon. You know this human is speaking out of concern for the ranger. Let it go by unnoticed. The Doctor said Marcus needs rest. Be silent and let rest return to this room. Softly admonishing himself, he managed to refrain from sneering a comment back at the Chief.

Garibaldi was irritated by Neroon's silence, but didn't have the heart to start a verbal fight with the Minbari; not with Marcus lying unconscious in the bed next to him. The Chief had come here --after he had told Sheridan about his adventure in Grey 17-- to see for himself that Neroon wasn't causing any disturbances. There was still the old irritation between them that originated from the time they had been forced to work together in an attempt to locate Branmer's corpse. Garibaldi disliked Neroon's arrogance and sense of superiority, but had been oddly pleased to hear the warrior appeared upset after this stupid Denn'Sha challenge.

Casting a hesitant glance at the Ranger, Garibaldi felt the urge to grab Cole and tell him how utterly stupid it had been to take on the Minbari warrior on his own. The Ranger's cockiness made him shake his head. What had driven Marcus to challenge Neroon to the death? His eyes shifted till they rested on Neroon's unmoving form. Garibaldi wasn't fooled by Neroon's calm demeanour; knowing only too well the Minbari could turn into the single-minded warrior he knew so well. "All right then, you win this time," Garibaldi muttered to the motionless Minbari. "You can stay here, but should you lay one finger on Marcus, I will personally make sure you'll leave the station and never return again."

Forcing back a grin from his face, Neroon remained statue-like. Only his breathing told Garibaldi that the Minbari was still alive. After the Chief had left the room, he flashed his eyes open to scan Marcus' condition. The readings on the monitors were unchanged; it hadn't taken him long to figure out Marcus' heartbeat was being registered along with his brainwaves.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hours later Doctor Hobbs returned with a nurse to tend to Marcus' needs. Neroon peered through half closed eyelids to observe their actions. As they stripped the ranger from his med gown to wash their patient, he closed them fully; not wanting to be part of such an intimate scene. Now, what he been meditating about? Yes, his reasons for letting Marcus live.

Reasons, I have to find the reasons for the way I acted. It began a long time ago with Sinclair. A human who spoke like a Minbari as we parted. It was he who planted seeds of doubt in my mind. And now Marcus. Yes, he fought me, bested me, made me realize my arrogance. A human made me look at myself and I do not like what is staring back at me from the pit of my mind. I have to come to terms with these changes taking place and more importantly; I have to consider this attraction I feel toward Marcus and whether to act on it or not.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A call came in from Medlab and Delenn answered it immediately, afraid Doctor Hobbs bore bad news. Switching to visual, Delenn watched Doctor Hobbs' expression very carefully. She wished Franklin were here to advice her.

"Ambassador Delenn, I'm worried."

"About what, Doctor Hobbs?"

"Neroon...  He has been here in Medlab for three days now. He isn't hampering us, but he hasn't left the room even once. He should eat and drink something, this can't be healthy."

"I will come to Medlab and talk to him," Delenn stated firmly." What about Marcus' condition? Any improvement yet?"

"I am afraid not. Getting him out of coma is proving more difficult than I thought. Perhaps if you came down and talked to him? Your voice might pull him out of it."

Rising to her feet, Delenn gestured Lennier that he didn't need to accompany her. There were several urgent messages that needed to be answered immediately and as her aide he needed to take care of them. "I am on my way, Doctor Hobbs."

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Allowing himself the luxury of stretching his cramped limbs, Neroon tried to get to his feet. It had been three days since he had last eaten, drank, slept or moved. A fast seemed appropriate and his vigil had helped him clear his mind. He had found his answers and even though he didn't like them, he had to accept them. There was a long road ahead of him, but before he could tread on that path he had to know the Ranger was going to recover.

Fatigue showed in his slow movements as he walked over to the exam bed. There was something he had to tell Marcus; even if the human couldn't hear him. While searching for the right words, he heard the door behind him open. Concentrating on the footfalls he identified Delenn's light footsteps, immediately followed by her inquiring voice.

"Neroon, are you fasting?"

Stifling a sigh, he looked at her. The concern in her eyes was genuine. Days ago he would have been surprised about it, but not any longer. He had reached some conclusions concerning Delenn as well. "It is part of the ritual."

"I never knew you valued our rituals this much, being a warrior I thought..." Delenn paused, studied his eyes before ending her remark. "Forgive me, I did not mean to question your values. I am merely surprised."

Neroon didn't speak. She had interrupted him at a very inconvenient time. He needed to make this admission to the Ranger; perhaps it would be a good thing if Delenn heard his words as well; a witness to his confession. It might clarify, even settle matters between them. "Denn'Sha you said... to the death. And death there was; the death was mine. To see a human invoke the name of Valen, willing to die for one of my kind, while I was intend on killing one of my own made the rightness of my cause disappear. Strange, how a human in his last moments can be more of a Minbari than I am..." His voice trembled as he looked Delenn in the eyes. "Perhaps it is true what you said, Delenn; that we are not of the same blood, but we are of the same heart."

A smile curled Delenn's lips. This was something she hadn't expected to hear, but Neroon's words warmed her heart. At this moment, she felt strangely proud  that Neroon had got this far; understanding at last what he had denied for so long.

Hesitantly, he touched Marcus' right hand, cautiously staying clear of the IV's. The skin felt cool; then he remembered that humans had a lower body temperature than Minbari.

"Neroon? Is there anything I can do for you?" She wasn't sure why she had asked that particular question. There was something sad clinging to him and she wanted to help. To reach and accept this revelation must have been hard on Neroon.

"You can make him wake up."

Delenn's eyes widened; such frankness... She never expected that. Taking a step closer to Neroon, she looked at Marcus. A weak blush had spread over his face. "He looks like he is just asleep...We need to have faith, Neroon. Marcus is strong; he will fight his way back to us."

A wavering smile lingered on Neroon's face for a moment, but it quickly faded. For one moment he forget Delenn's presence and stroked back some strands of damp hair from the Ranger's face. He didn't see Delenn's baffled look upon seeing him touch a human. Both held their breath as the Ranger stirred, moaning once, opening his eyes only to close them again. Neroon jerked back his hand as if he had been burned and didn't notice Delenn leaving the room to get Doctor Hobbs.

Stepping away from the exam bed, Neroon couldn't tear his eyes away from his own hand. Marcus had regained consciousness the moment he had touched his brow. Now that Marcus was awake, he had to leave. There was no more reason to stay. As the door closed behind him, he dragged his exhausted body to the guest quarters in Green 3 where Delenn had arranged rooms for him. Although he had not been in this particular area before he found his way rather easily. Relieved to find a sleeping platform at the correct angle, he rested his tired body after shedding his cloak and boots. Sleep came quickly now he knew where he stood in all this.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nausea, vertigo, an overwhelming need to literally spill his guts made Marcus very much aware he was awake. The blissful feeling of oblivion was gone and a shattering ache moved through his body. Trying to breath as shallowly as possible, he sometimes had to fight for breath as broken ribs tried to keep him from sucking fresh air into his lungs. Bugger, it hurts so much. He wished he could go back to the black, -- soothing-- sleep he had been in. Lying as still as possible, he managed to reduce the agony he was in. The pain lessened and he slowly opened his eyes to look into Delenn's warm eyes.

"Entil'Zha..." Wanting to pay her proper respect, Marcus tried to prop himself up on his elbows; trying to bow. A sharp tang of pain swept through him and the room began to spin.

"Please lie down, Marcus. You are injured."

Marcus closed his eyes. One by one, memories began to surface. The first thing he remembered was sneaking up to the Minbari warrior. No longer viewing the events in slow motion, the pictures suddenly seemed to fast forward. He gasped, remembering the defeated look in Neroon's eyes. The warrior had stepped away from him, no longer interested in taking his life. As he slid onto the cold floor, Marcus remembered losing consciousness, only to wake up again when a cruel voice intruded his slumber. Half awake, half unconscious, he had registered the voices near him, had felt the snap of the handcuffs, heard the Centauri's words. They were going to sell him as a slave.

Suddenly, an angry growl had made him aware that Neroon had returned. Marcus re-lived how the Centauri hauled him off the floor, trying to make him stay on his feet. The next flash left him stunned. Had Neroon really helped him?

Although Delenn was very close, her shape began to grow blurry. Telling himself to focus on her, Marcus managed to catch the concerned gleam in her eyes. "Neroon?" His voice trembled involuntarily.

"You were very brave, Marcus, but also very reckless to face him alone. He is trained to kill humans and he is one of the best warriors his Caste has to offer. You are very fortunate he let you live." Delenn licked her lips, choosing her words with precaution." I think you impressed him. You certainly confuse him."

"I... confuse him?" Gritting his teeth to stop himself from laughing, Marcus moved one hand to carefully touch his bandaged ribcage. He realized it was probably best he moved as little as possible, but he had to get a better look at her. "But you are safe, Entil'Zha," Marcus said relieved, biting back his pain. "That's the only thing that matters."

"Rest now, Marcus," Delenn whispered." You need to sleep.You were in a coma when you were brought in."

"Coma?" Marcus groaned; that would explain why he felt this weak. There was one more question he had to ask before giving into sleep. "Where is Neroon? I thought... I heard his voice... before I woke." His jaw hurt and his eyelids were stubbornly trying to close without his consent; Marcus wanted to stay awake. He saw the moment of hesitation on Delenn's face. It appeared to him as if she was contemplating what she could tell him. He didn't like that. "Delenn, please... I can handle it... Whatever it is."

"I know that, Marcus." Delenn decided to be honest, Marcus deserved no half-truths. "Neroon brought you in and kept... a vigil at your side, meditating on his actions. I wonder about Neroon, he can be so stubborn at times, yet sometimes... he seems to reach some amount of enlightenment. Hope is not yet lost, I think he can be redeemed. You made him realize humans are not as despicable as he wants to believe. He took a very important step when he acknowledged the fact that maybe we are of the same heart after all."

Although Marcus heard the words, the feeling of light-headedness made it hard for him to fully comprehend them. Neroon had kept a vigil at his side? His glazed eyes closed, lacking the power to keep them open. "I guess... something good... came out of fighting him in Down Below after all." Surrendering to the sweet darkness of healing sleep, Marcus let go of reality and drifted into the world of dreams.

Delenn was about to leave the room when Doctor Hobbs entered, a smile on her face. "I checked the readings, Delenn. I think he's over the hill; the worst is behind him now. His concussion will trouble him for a couple of days and his mending ribs even longer, but I'm confident he will make a full recovery."

"Thank Valen for that and I want to thank you for taking such good care of him." It was good to know Marcus was on his way to recovery. Marcus' words returned to her; yes, perhaps something good had come out of this after all.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Marcus woke the next time, he was alone in the room. Fatigued, he tried to move the pillows against his back in to a more comfortable position. Cursing beneath his breath, he remembered just in time to be careful not to tear out any IV's. He rested his back against the softness of the pillows and allowed his thoughts to drift back to his conversation with Delenn. How many hours had passed since then? Something she had said intruded his thoughts; Neroon had kept a vigil at his side. That was definitely the oddest thing he had ever heard. He had seen the loathing in the Minbari's eyes when he had delighted in cracking his ribs.

Marcus sighed. He needed some time to deal with all what had happened lately. Denn'Sha; it wasn't a tradition his teachers had talked about during training. He had discovered its existence himself, while studying Minbari custom after the lessons for the day had ended. The other trainees would sit together during the evening, exchanging experiences. He had seldom joined them; during his training he tried to avoid forming friendships. It wasn't something he yearned for, not consciously anyway. After having lost the most important people in his life during a vicious Shadow attack, he chose to keep to himself. Entil'Zha Sinclair had warned him not to severe all ties, that he needed warmth and friendship after what he had been through, but the pain had been too raw, consuming him completely.

There was no denying he had come a long way since then. Yes, he still kept his distance, afraid they would leave him as well, but he had begun to open his heart again. Slowly, carefully, he had allowed them in. Delenn, Entil'Zha; he was willing to die for her. Lennier, whose eyes were draped all the time. He knew of the love Lennier bore Delenn. It saddened him to see the Minbari suffer in silence, much like he did.

Susan, she was a dream come true. He loved her from a distance and wasn't sure why he felt afraid to tell her he was in love with her. Something in her eyes warned him not to, that she had been hurt too deeply in prior relationships. It was obvious that she wasn't ready yet for another romantic relationship, perhaps never. Not once had she shown any kind of romantic interest in him and perhaps it was time to burn that bridge behind him. He was only human and there was only that much rejection he could take.

Trying hard to ignore the annoying beeps coming from the monitors, Marcus wondered what time it was; was it day or night? Delenn had told him Neroon had kept his vigil for three days, but how long had he been asleep this time? Doctor Hobbs had been here, he knew that much. Her voice had penetrated the silence of his dreamless sleep, but he had been too exhausted to wake up to ask her some questions. It hadn't been necessary to wake up; she was going to return to check on him.

"Marcus?"

Weary, he turned his head and tried to smile at her. He wondered where Stephen was, then remembered he had resigned, had vanished in Down Below. Marcus had wanted to seek him out, talk to him, but then Neroon had appeared. "Doctor Hobbs."  The relief was plainly written across her face upon finding him awake and lucid.            

"How are you Marcus?" she said, checking the readings. "Still dizzy and feeling nauseous?"

"It's getting better, though my headache is doing its best to kill me." Closing his eyes, he felt another wave of sharp knifes move through his head.

"I'll give you something for the pain. Stay in bed during the next couple of days. You were beat up pretty bad."

A grin tried to surface on his face. He already hated being confined to bed. He felt the tension slip from his aching muscles as she injected the pain killer. The pain in his head vanished immediately. Closing his eyes, he savored being free from pain.

"Marcus," she said, wavering for one instant. "Are you up to receiving some visitors?"

Carefully opening his eyes again, his grin surfaced this time. He was feeling a lot better already; as long as he didn't move that was. " Who is it?" It seemed best to ask that question first so he could prepare himself mentally.

"The Captain and the Commander."

Susan? Oh bugger, the one time she shows any interest in me I'm lying here in some stupid med gown, looking black and blue all over my face. He realized he couldn't turn them away. Resigned, he told Doctor Hobbs to show them in. Pulling the thermo blanket up to his shoulders, he waited impatiently for his visitors. The door opened and the Captain was the first to enter, a sparkling smile on his face.

"You scared us for a while, Cole," Sheridan said in a low voice, rich with true relief. "The next time you try a stunt like that take a PPG with you."

Marcus laughed softly; it was good to know they cared for him. It made him feel warm inside; dissolving the nearly always present cold. As Susan appeared his heart definitely missed a tiny beat. She looked absolutely gorgeous; wearing her hair down and loose. Even the shapeless uniform accentuated her female curves. Looking into her eyes he saw real concern. He realized the Captain was waiting for a reply. "I don't think I'll ever again be so stupid to take on a Minbari warrior on my own, simply hurts too much." Marcus managed to shoot them a dazzling smile and the last bit of concern vanished from their faces.

"I don't know what it is with you, Marcus," Ivanova muttered, as if lost in thought, "but thankfully you manage to survive these dangerous situations you get yourself into. I remember the Captain asking me if anything was wrong during the ceremony and damn, I should have known. I'm the Commander of this station. "

Did he really hear a tone of self-reproach in her voice? "Susan, this had to be settled without Delenn or anyone else knowing about it. It would only have upset her."

"Ha, but then you failed, Cole," Susan spoke in a faintly mocking voice. "You upset Delenn and the rest of us as well."

Did I upset you? The thought nestled deeply within his mind and he knew the moment of truth had come. It was either now or never; speak out now or remain quiet for the rest of his life. Looking pleadingly at Sheridan, he heard his voice tremble slightly as he addressed Sheridan. "Captain? Can I have a moment alone with Susan?" He almost added the word please, but decided against it. Sheridan shot him a confused glance, then seemed to know somehow why Marcus needed that moment of privacy.

"Of course, I'll wait outside. I have to talk to Doctor Hobbs anyway." Silently, he left the room, making sure the door closed properly behind him.

This is it, Cole. She knows something is about to happen. I've seen her pace like that before on the White Star. I hope she won't kill me for telling her.

The Commander studied Marcus. He looks like he's afraid I'm going to rip his lungs out or space him. She had always dreaded being forced into this conversation. Never able to hide anything from her, Susan had long seen the raging emotions inside the ranger, but had pretended ignorance on purpose. She didn't want to address this issue, afraid to hurt his feelings. But there was no way out now; it needed to be done. She had no choice. "What is it, Marcus?" she whispered, painfully aware of the hooded look in his eyes. "Tell me."

Licking his lips, he gathered his courage. If only he knew how she would react! Bracing himself for all possible reactions, from acceptance to hate, he finally found the right words to speak. "Susan, I should have told you a long time ago; the first time we met. I ... am in love with you." There, he had said it. He averted his eyes, apprehensively waiting for her answer.

Ivanova moved toward the bed; damn, she hated doing this to him, but he had to know, had every right to know where she stood in this. "I know, Marcus, but it would never work out between us."

"Why?" His voice was filled with consternation, his every hope crushed. "Explain this to me, Susan. I need to know."

Fighting the impulse to take his hand in hers, she settled for sitting down on the edge of his bed. "Do you know about Talia?"

His biggest fear was becoming reality very quickly. He knew what she was going to tell him. What a blind fool he had been; always the fool. "Yes, I heard about her... you loved her," he replied in a shaky tone. " You still love her, that's why you can't love me. I see it in your eyes."

Ivanova forced back a tear; he was so damned observant. He had always been like that. She had fought hard to keep this one truth from him; hoping he would fall in love with someone else. "Yes, I still do. I can't help it. My relationships with men always went haywire and Talia.was different. I can't let go of her, not yet. Psi Corps took her away from me. I hate them for what they did to her," Susan hesitated, she had to tell him everything. "I hope that one day my Talia, the one I loved, still love, will return to me. I'm so sorry, Marcus. I don't want to hurt you, but you deserve to know the truth. "

Feeling quite the fool, -- no, idiot--  for not having seen this, Marcus swallowed hard. He had hurt her, brought back very painful memories. "I hope she'll return to you someday, Susan. I really do. I'm sorry you were hurt like that. No one should have to hurt like that."

A sad smile crossed Ivanova's face. He always thought of others first. She wished she could love him the way he deserved, but it would be living a lie.

Marcus' heart crumbled in to thousand small pieces as her words really hit home. He had been chasing a dream.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rubbing his eyes, Marcus stared at the IV's in his hands. Harassing Doctor Hobbs was much harder and less rewarding than irritating the hell out of Stephen. The woman only laughed, quite amused, and then left the room after telling him over and over again he was going to stay in Medlab for at least four more days. His thoughts slipped back to Susan. He was still attracted to her, but that feeling had cooled down considerably. Every time he caught himself thinking of her in a romantic way, he slammed shut that door in his mind; locking it time and time again behind him.

Now what? What was he going to do? She had told him she wanted them to stay friends. She did like him, but not the way he wanted her to like him. That was hard for him to accept. All this time he had hoped he would win her love. Unrequited love is more like it. But he wasn't the only one suffering; poor Lennier. Marcus had seen the crestfallen look on his face once the Minbari understood that Delenn was fated for another.

It was probably best to distance himself a little from Susan. Oh, he wanted to remain friends with her, but he needed time to get over her admission. Well, time was something he had in surplus; imprisoned in Medlab as he was. A nurse entered his room carrying his dinner. One hour later, the meal was still untouched. Doctor Hobbs came by, trying to coax him into eating something. He apologized to her, told her he would eat something later. It was obvious she doubted his words, but didn't push the matter.

She did however place a call to Ambassador Delenn, who wasn't in. Lennier answered the call. The young Minbari listened closely as she told him of Marcus' condition and promised to come to Medlab.

Unaware of this call, Marcus stared at the ceiling, bored and frustrated. There was nothing he could do. Though the vertigo was gone, his mending ribs practically chained him to the bed. If only he had something to read. Thrown back to his earlier musings, his thoughts came across Delenn's statement that he confused Neroon. He smiled, then his smile grew dim. Was it really true? Had the warrior stayed at his side while he had been in a coma? Why would Neroon do such a thing?

Marcus realized there was another conversation he had to see through. It wouldn't be a nice one; he needed to talk to Neroon. He was about to call for a nurse so he could send a message to the warrior, when Lennier entered the room unexpectedly. The young Minbari was carrying something, hiding it beneath his robes. His curiosity aroused, Marcus tried to peek at the half hidden object.

"Marcus, I heard you did not like the food they serve here." Lennier said. "So I went to this highly recommended restaurant in the Zocalo. I think this will be to your liking."

As Lennier uncovered the item from his robes, a plate appeared. Finally able to get a clear view of the food, Marcus sniffed appreciatively. He couldn't believe it.

"I thought it better not to reveal this to Doctor Hobbs." Lennier continued in a more amused tone. "She seems rather intend on you eating only Medlab-food." Aware of Marcus' fondness for this type of food, Lennier decided it wise to buy this. Marcus wouldn't be able to resist this temptation.

"Lennier? Did you really get me fish and chips? You were right in hiding it from our Doctor, I don't think she would consider this healthy food." Pulling the plate closer to him, he grinned, tasting it. "Salt and vinegar!"

Content to see his friend relish the food, Lennier smiled. Not sure whether to talk to Marcus or just leave, Lennier waited for the Ranger to say something. Marcus managed to eat half of the fish and chips, placed his fork down and peeked at Lennier. "I told Susan I loved her. She told me she didn't feel the same way about me."

Lennier heard the agony in his friend's voice. He had always suspected Marcus had fallen in love with the Commander. "I'm sorry to hear that, what will you do now?"

" I honestly don't know, Lennier. I clung to the hope for so long, I feel empty, cold." Marcus pushed the plate away and drank some water. Playing with the fabric of his med gown, he decided to change the subject. Talking about Susan was too painful; the wound still raw and bleeding. "Lennier, there's something I want you to do for me."

After removing the plate from the Ranger's bed Lennier cocked his head, curious and feeling a tad uncomfortable. "Yes?"

"I want you to deliver a message to Neroon." Marcus was once more fully in control of his emotions. "I need to talk to him. Can you ask him to come to Medlab?"

Uncertain how to react to this request, Lennier took some moments to think it over. He couldn't find anything wrong with it. The warrior was still on the station. Lennier had been stunned to learn from Delenn that Neroon had offered her his services. She had told the warrior to rest for now; wanting to think about his offer. "I will do as you ask of me, but I cannot guarantee he will come to see you."

"Thank you, Lennier."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been one day now since Neroon had left Medlab. Most of that time he had spent sleeping, recharging from the strain of meditation. After waking up, he had gone to Delenn to offer her his services. Venturing into the Zocalo at last, he located a restaurant that served Minbari dishes. Satiated, he returned to his rooms and sat down. Delenn had told him that Marcus was on the road to recovery and he felt pleased hearing that news.

"Lights low." For some reason he had always liked sitting in the half-dark; the lack of bright light made it easier for him to focus his thoughts. His mother had considered it unhealthy, but had refrained from reprimanding him. Even now after all these cycles he sometimes slipped back into that old habit.

The sound of the door chime startled him briefly, piercing the silence that had lain over him like a blanket. It was apparent he wasn't going to get much rest; so be it. "Enter." Neroon noticed that his voice sounded exhausted. He had to work on perfecting his old mask of superiority. Hiding his emotions had always made him feel safe and he needed that wall up now more than ever. Curiosity got the upper hand and he looked at the door, eager to know who wanted to talk to him. "Lennier? What brings you here?"

Distinctly uncomfortable, Lennier remained standing near the doorway. Although Neroon's disposition appeared to be changing, the young Minbari thought it wise to be careful. Why Marcus wanted to talk to the warrior was beyond his comprehension, but the Ranger had asked him to do this for him and Lennier felt guilty. Guilty for asking his friend to stop Neroon and therefore he had complied with Marcus' request.

"Neroon, Marcus asked me to convey a message to you. He is recovering nicely and wishes to talk to you." Lennier noticed the carefully masked expression on Neroon's face. It was so perfectly drained of emotion the young Minbari knew the warrior was struggling with something, desperately trying to hide it from his eyes.

"I do not think that would be a wise thing to do," Neroon stated.  I do not wish to talk to him."

That answer left Lennier speechless for some moments. "You refuse to talk to him?" A bit of his anger showed in his voice although Lennier fought hard to subdue it. In his opinion Neroon owed Marcus that much.

Neroon saw the expression in the young Minbari's eyes and knew Lennier thought arrogance had made him say it. He needed to explain his decision. "Lennier," the warrior replied with an odd softness to his voice," I am not refusing him his request, I merely think we should wait with facing each other. I am sure he needs time as well to come to terms with what happened down there."

Slightly inclining his head, Lennier wondered about Neroon. Apparently, Neroon had spent a considerable amount of time pondering this matter. Lennier had to admit he was impressed with Neroon's thoughtfulness; he wasn't sure Marcus would see it the same way though.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marcus studied Lennier's facial expression upon his return from Neroon's quarters and reached the conclusion that his friend was carrying bad news.

"I am sorry, Marcus," the young Minbari said apologetically," but Neroon thinks the time is not yet right for talking to you. He did assure me however, that he is willing to talk to you at a later time."

"The smug bastard," Marcus growled between his teeth. "He won't even talk to me! I thought I saw some compassion in his eyes as he chased off the Centauri. Must have imagined that look in his eyes." He shifted slightly in the bed, utterly frustrated. The refusal made him feel angry. What gave Neroon the right to deny him this request?

Lennier observed the growing consternation on Marcus' face and wished he had been able to convince Neroon to agree to talk to the ranger. There was little he could do to help his friend. Neroon's answer had been determined and Lennier knew the warrior wouldn't change his mind; Neroon was headstrong. Marcus' trembling voice made him concentrate on the present situation.

"Lennier? I'm feeling a bit tired," Marcus whispered in a weary voice. "Would you please leave me so I can get some sleep?" Marcus avoided his friend's eyes, hoping Lennier wasn't going to question his sudden fatigue. Marcus knew it wasn't a nice thing to do, but he had to get rid off the Minbari if he wanted to carry out his plan. He was going to make Neroon face him; the warrior wasn't going to get out of this one that easily. Although Marcus didn't know yet how to accomplish that he was certain he would find a way in the end; he always did. Closing his eyes as if asleep Marcus waited for Lennier to leave the room.

The sudden display of fatigue did arouse Lennier's suspicions. Normally, Marcus would never point out how tired he felt. What was Marcus up to? Lennier decided to warn Doctor Hobbs before he left Medlab to tell her to keep an eye on him. It was too obvious Marcus wanted him to leave. "I will leave now, Marcus. Please be patient. Neroon is very opinionated and it would be wrong to force him into a conversation. You need to rest first and heal."

Hearing the suspicion in his friend's voice told Marcus that Lennier was onto him. It didn't worry him though. He was going to find a way out of Medlab to confront and question Neroon. Pretending to be asleep, he listened to Lennier's retreating footsteps and decided to wait until he was sure the coast was clear.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One hour later, Marcus felt the time was right to make his move. Favoring his ribs he managed to slip out from underneath the blanket. He swung his feet onto the floor. Involuntarily, his eyes were drawn toward the welts around his wrists. They hadn't fully closed yet, not even after Doctor Hobbs had applied a soothing balm onto the wounds. He still vividly remembered the sound the manacles had made when they had snapped shut.

It had been Neroon who had come to his rescue, the most unlikely one to be concerned for his well being. Questions swirled in his mind and they demanded answers. He couldn't wait any longer.

Moving slowly he managed to get to his feet. The room in which he stood spun momentarily, but he was determined not to give in. Taking his time he walked over to the cupboard and opened it. He wasn't surprised to find a Ranger uniform inside; he had counted on it being there. Bending forward to pick up the clothing he hissed as a wave of pain ran through him. His ribs were hurting a lot more than he thought they would. He realized he had to carry out his plan quickly before the pain would drain him of his last bit of energy. After struggling with the med gown and uniform for several minutes he settled for merely putting on his trousers and turtleneck. He briefly wondered about his pike, but then dismissed the thought. That was something he could worry about later.

Now he had to concentrate on sneaking out of Medlab. Well, he had done that before, but this time his injuries were much more serious and they limited his range of movements. A tiny voice in his mind told him this was folly and that he should return to bed. No, I want those answers now. I need to know why he helped me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~           

It was quiet in his borrowed quarters. Up until some moments ago soft harp like music had reverberated through the rooms. Neroon hadn't really been listening; his thoughts had been circling around the Ranger's request to talk to him. He wondered if Marcus would accept his refusal... or would the Ranger act unexpectedly?

Rising from the chair, he straightened out his uniform. He wished Delenn had a mission for him. Being confined to Babylon 5 was making him nervous. His thoughts drifted back to the last message the clan of the Wind Swords had sent him after they had been informed of his dishonorable intention to kill Delenn. It had been no surprise to hear he had been declared an outcast, exiled from Minbar for the rest of his life. If that was to be his punishment he was going to endure it and accept that his career ended here. It did leave him grateful though that Delenn allowed him to stay onboard and assist the Rangers wherever possible. It provided him with a badly needed cause now that his life had been turned upside down. And all of this because of a human. But I will pay this price to know him alive.

The door chime chirped and Neroon hoped it wasn't Lennier who had come to plead for the Ranger a second time. He wasn't ready yet to face Marcus. First, he had to come to terms with his attraction towards the human. "Yes, enter." Turning around to get a clear view of the doorway, Neroon wished for some quiet and peace. The door slid open and revealed his visitor.

Marcus was wobbly on his feet. Perhaps he should have stayed in bed, but it was too late now to reconsider. Seeing the stunned expression on Neroon's face made him want to chuckle. He choked back the grin, not wanting to set off this confrontation with a wrong move. Leaning heavily against the wall Marcus watched Neroon approach him. He was surprised to see true concern on the Minbari's face. "Neroon." His voice echoed the weakness of his body while it made its way across the room. "I need to talk to you."

It took Neroon some moments to deal with the Ranger's sudden appearance. Searching for the right words, he noticed the paleness on Marcus' face; the drained look in his eyes. It urged him to take charge of this situation. Seeing Marcus stirred the attraction he felt toward the Ranger, but he fought it down successfully. "Before we talk, sit down. You are in no condition to be on your feet." Neroon beckoned him to step inside, waiting for Marcus to sit down.

Marcus was dizzy and accepted Neroon's invitation, although he felt a bit embarrassed for not being able to hide his weakness. Step by step he covered the distance to the couch, determined not to stumble. He couldn't repress the sigh that left his lips as he lowered himself onto the sofa. Glad to be off his feet he tentatively touched his ribcage, making sure the bandages were still in place.

Neroon used the moments Marcus needed to sit down to compose himself. Feeling rather indecisive, he seated himself on the other end of the couch. Just as he wondered how to start this conversation, Marcus took the first step.

"I had to come here. I need an explanation."

"What kind of explanation?" Neroon froze as Marcus' penetrating glare seemed to pierce his soul. The Ranger's eyes were burning and Neroon felt distinctly uncomfortable being studied like this. In the back of his mind however, he wondered about the Ranger's health and knew he had to find a way to get Marcus back to Medlab.

Marcus was unable to read Neroon's expression; the warrior hid his emotions and thoughts extremely well. He was starting to wonder why it had been that important to come here and talk to Neroon. The only thing he felt now was fatigue and his body began to protest, demanding he'd rest. "I want to know why you let me live." Marcus realized his voice shook, giving away his inner turmoil, but he had come here to get that answer and he wasn't going to leave without it. "And I need to know why you freed me from those Centauri. Why, Neroon? You made it perfectly clear that I couldn't stop you. You defeated me. The only thing left for you to do was to end it with one more blow."

Holding the Ranger's gaze with his own eyes, Neroon saw the pleading in them and  wondered if Marcus knew what expression lay in his green eyes. He owed the Ranger an explanation. Marcus had a right to know his reasons for letting him live. Neroon carefully decided what to tell him and what to keep a secret. He wasn't going to tell Marcus about the attraction he felt toward him, not now, perhaps never. "I asked myself that same question, Marcus." It was the first time he used that name to address the Ranger and he saw the surprise in Marcus' eyes upon hearing it. "You made me realize I was wrong. To hear you invoke the name of Valen made me feel ashamed for wanting to kill one of my own."

Not expecting Neroon to be this honest Marcus pulled his gaze away from the warrior's eyes. He had his answer so why did it make him feel so...  empty? Perhaps because of that one moment in which Neroon's eyes had been hooded before answering him? He wondered what Neroon had locked away in his soul at that moment; something that eluded him. "That's it? Because I invoked Valen's name? It sounds so... insignificant. Did it really save my live?" Marcus searched the Minbari's face for further clues, but found none. Neroon's grave expression gave away nothing. Whatever he had seen in those dark eyes was completely gone now.

Insignificant? You really expected to die at my hands Marcus, did you not? I wonder how you felt when you woke up in Medlab to find you were still alive.  Neroon saw Marcus' unease, but was determined not to reveal anything of his infatuation with the Ranger. "You are the first to best me during Denn'Sha, Marcus. Why question such good luck?" He never let go of his gaze.

Swallowing hard, Marcus realized coming here had been the wrong thing to do. Neroon was more perceptive than he had thought possible and this line of questioning made him want to run out of the room. He had to find an excuse to leave before Neroon demanded an answer. "I think I'd better get back to Medlab now," Marcus said, changing the subject of their conversation. "I've already taken up too much of your time."

Neroon recognized the diversion for what it was; the Ranger didn't want to answer his question. So be it. He wasn't going to push the issue; he still felt they should have waited to discuss this. Watching Marcus' unsteady attempts to get back to his feet, Neroon cleared his throat. It was obvious the Ranger needed help to get back to Medlab, but would never ask for it. "Allow me to escort you back to Medlab," Neroon said in a determined tone." After all I am responsible for your injuries."

Marcus was about to decline as a blanket of darkness descended around him, making it very hard for him to focus his eyes. The dizzy spell diminished, but only now did he feel Neroon steadying him; an arm wrapped around his waist. Marcus was embarrassed to admit it, but without Neroon's support he would have fallen and would have added more injuries to the list. He had no other choice than to accept Neroon's offer.

He remained quiet though as they walked the corridors. Thankfully, the vertigo didn't return and he had never been more relieved to see Doctor Hobbs running toward him. She looked angry and quite upset. Marcus knew he would get another lecture on not to sneak out of Medlab and she didn't disappoint him.

"Cole! What were you thinking leaving like that! You need to rest... I can't believe you actually ripped out your IV's. Stephen told me you were a difficult patient, but..." Her voice trailed off as she helped the Ranger lie down in bed again. "I'm seriously considering putting you in restraints!"

"That won't be necessary," Neroon interrupted her, stepping away from the bed to let her do her job. "Marcus wanted some answers and now he has them. I do not think he will leave a second time." He caught Marcus' thankful gaze and smiled hesitantly.

"Thank you, Neroon. Last thing I want is to be restrained," Marcus stated and shifted his gaze to look at Doctor Hobbs. "I promise I'll behave and be a good boy." A grin spread over his face as he heard Doctor Hobbs' resigned sigh.

"You stay in bed and rest." Doctor Hobbs re-attached the IV's and after glaring at him one more time to assure him she was serious, left the room.

Slowly stretching his body, Marcus wondered why Neroon was still in the room. "Neroon?" His voice betrayed his insecurity, not sure what he wanted to say.

"Yes, Marcus?"

"I would like to talk to you some more, but I'm afraid Doctor Hobbs will make sure I won't be able to sneak off again." Marcus mused aloud, unable to formulate his request; but he was sure Neroon knew what he was being asked.

Neroon saw the hesitance in the Ranger's eyes and answered him softly. "In that case I will visit you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Delenn was on her way to Medlab, trying very hard to hold onto her composure. Doctor Hobbs had informed her of Marcus leaving Medlab without her permission because he'd wanted to talk to Neroon. What would it take to make Marcus understand that his injuries were severe and that he needed to recuperate?

Opening the door to Marcus' room Delenn already knew what to say to her stubborn Ranger, but kept silent upon seeing him peacefully asleep. She went to stand next to his bed and while cocking her head, studied him. A faint smile played across his features. Now as he lies asleep his mask is down, his walls are non-existent. I have seen him hide behind them from the day he got here. I wished I could help you Marcus, but you will never let go of the pain no matter what I say.

Tentatively running a finger over the Ranger's hair, she pondered all recent developments. She was especially troubled about Neroon. News of him being pronounced an outcast had traveled fast and she didn't really know what to do now. She vividly remembered the first confrontation they had ever had; Branmer's funeral. In the end Neroon had apologized to Sinclair at her insistence. Sinclair had told her Neroon had impressed him and that comment had pleased her in an odd way. Somehow, Neroon always seemed to find his way back, away from the anger that sometimes consumed him. Perhaps she should give him a chance to prove himself. She could give him command of a White Star. The Rangers needed experienced warriors; being Religious or Worker Caste primarily they lacked battle experience. A sound coming from behind her, made her aware that she wasn't alone in the room.

"I see you're surprised to find me here, Delenn."

Delenn slowly turned around to look into his eyes. She should have known he would be here. Neroon had made himself comfortable in a chair in a corner of the room, a weak smile shining from the depths of his eyes.

"He came to my quarters. I merely escorted him back." Neroon watched her reaction and saw the questions in her eyes. Even more questions, why do they think I am the one with answers? They only have to look into their own hearts to find them.

"Neroon, what is going on between you and Marcus? I want the truth."

"The truth, she says," Neroon echoed her words bitterly. "My truth differs from your truth. You should know there is no absolute truth. What you might perceive as the truth might be a lie to me, so why ask?"

Delenn was momentarily stunned by his philosophical answer. She hardly recognized the Neroon she had always known. "You almost sound like a priest, Neroon, not like a warrior."

"Ah." Neroon laughed, amused. "Did I never tell you that at one time I felt a religious calling? No, I did not..."

"A calling?" Delenn's tone was filled with disbelief. "You?"

"Yes. But I am not going to reveal all my secrets to you." Neroon moved away from the bed, passed her by and placed his hand against the door, ready to leave.

"Neroon, wait," she said, suddenly eager to find out more about the warrior.

"Wait? What for? I am at your disposal should you need me for a mission, but I am not willing to discuss my personal life with you at this moment." Neroon bowed slightly, then left the room.

Delenn focused her attention once more on the Ranger. What was she missing? Neroon had seldom acted this unpredictably. First he reached out for her help and now he seemed to distance himself again. She realized that Neroon's puzzling behavior must have something to do with Marcus. Ever since the Ranger had challenged him Neroon had been acting very out of character; he had let his opponent live while being challenged to death. Not to mention the fact that Neroon had openly admitted his faults and then there was that vigil he had kept at Marcus' side... It had to mean something, but what?

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Psi Corps' Headquarters

Alfred Bester was not a happy man. Although his network of informants and contacts had managed to obtain the information he needed, he had suffered a great loss. Two of his most loyal telepaths had given their lives to ensure this report was delivered to him.  Someone will pay for their deaths. And that someone was Caim, the Psi Cop in charge of Internal Affairs and several other divisions. Caim was one of the most influential leaders in the Corps, rumored to be rated P13.  Bester shivered momentarily. Caim also acted as a very important contact between Psi Corps and the Shadows. He hated the man.

Bester studied the report once he got home, aware of the fact that his office was watched all the time. Even his personal assistant was one of Caim's spies. Alfred still cursed himself for making the mistake to openly question the wisdom of Psi Corps to ally themselves with the Shadows. Since that time Caim had kept an eye on him. It had only urged him on with his investigations and silent betrayal.

The fact that Psi Corps had been willing to sacrifice Blips to convince the Shadows of their intentions had made him furious. Psi Corps considered them waste, something that needed to be disposed of, but to him they were telepaths in need of help. He would never forgive Psi Corps for handing them over so willingly; even glad to be rid of them. Blips, the word caused a deep ache in his mind to re-awaken; Carolyn. He'd lost the woman he loved to the Shadows.

No, I have to stop thinking about her. In his mind he sought out the room in which her memory lingered; an essence that would always stay with him. Then he locked that door behind him; imagining turning the mental key to lock her ghost out of the present. There are things I need to attend to before this gets out of hand.

Psi Corps' involvement with the Shadows needed to stop. More specifically, he had to stop Caim. Flinging the report onto his desk he stared at the gray wall opposite him. He realized he couldn't do this on his own. His enemies were everywhere and Centauri Prime was out of his reach. Why had Caim chosen that planet to conduct his experiments? If it hadn't been for the stolen report he would never have known what Caim was up to. He needed someone to guide him, to take him there.

Babylon 5... The rangers... But how to make sure they'll help me? His alliance with Babylon 5 was fragile. Commander Ivanova distrusted him and he understood why after he had read her mother's personal file. He'd known Ivanova was a latent telepath the first time he'd met her. Bester raised his legs and rested them on the table, leaning into the comfort of his chair. He had no interest in claiming her for the Corps; she was much more useful where she was now.

A plan formed in his mind. Usually, he depended on manipulation to get what he wanted, but this time the truth might do the trick even better. He would need one week at least, perhaps even longer to get to Babylon 5 unnoticed. It was of utmost importance that no one at headquarters would grow suspicious of his sudden departure. He needed to do a lot of thinking and planning. What was the name of that ranger assigned to the space station? He'd never met the man, but had studied the files of everyone he might encounter while being on Babylon 5; preparation was very important to him and had saved his life more than once. Perhaps he could convince the Minbari Ambassador to help him. Yes, he remembered the ranger's name now; Marcus Cole.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Dana Flaxen looked approvingly at her own handiwork. Caim had chosen her out of three candidates to take this final test to determine if she was the right person to become his new personal assistant. She was proud to be among the three Psi Cops he had elected from the ranks. She was a P10, very ambitious and knew for certain that her attractive appearance was another reason why Caim was interested in her. It was a known fact that the powerful Psi Cop had a preference for small Asian women. She was lucky to be born Japanese. Forcing herself to pay attention to her unconscious prisoner, she felt Caim's eyes on her. It only made her more resolved to acquire the information Caim needed by cruelly interrogating her helpless victim. She knew Caim liked to watch her torture the prisoner; that knowledge turned her on.

Caim studied the young Psi Cop. She was very promising; he would be able to mold her perverse desires to serve him best. She was the best assistant he could hope for. Shifting his gaze to her helpless victim, Caim hardly recognized the pretty face the young female rogue telepath had once possessed. The only thing left was a bloody mess of flesh, bones and ripped sinews. One look inside the rogue's mind told him that she was insane and balancing on the verge of death. He would have to teach Dana to be subtler with her prisoners. Although she had managed to extract all required information, he would have preferred it if the rogue had lived a little longer; she could have been useful.

Stepping out of the concealed room, Caim saw the ecstasy in Dana's eyes. This girl was truly evil for one so young. He checked her record, only 24 years old and already she had climbed to the position of his personal aide. She could help him when going after Bester.

Bester, the mere mention of that name infuriated him. That Psi Cop had dared to question his brilliant idea to form an alliance with the Shadows. He intended to use the Shadows to his own advantage and the only person standing between him and his goal was Bester. The fact that Bester was a P12 was reason enough to want him eliminated. Rated P13 himself, Caim knew that Bester was the only one who could possibly scan or manipulate him. Bester's dislike for Psi Corps' involvement with the Shadows would be reason enough for the Corps' powerful rulers to grant him permission to go after him. But first he had to congratulate Dana and tell her she had made his team.

Supercilious, she no longer vouchsafed her victim a glance. Her work here was done and the rogue telepath dead. Trembling with pleasure, she saw Caim approach her, a proud smile on his face. How deceiving he looks, with his appearance of an innocent Botticelli angel and yet... he owns a demon's soul. Her eyes wandered over the smooth white skin, the icy blue eyes which stared at her coldly. His long, blond hair fell over his shoulders and curled towards the ends. She tried to guess his age; no more than 25 years at most. And yet, this young telepath had more power and influence than anyone else she knew. That power attracted her for she craved it herself.

"Dana, you'll be a valuable asset to my team." he said melodically. "Welcome to the Fallen Angels."

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Babylon 5

"Now listen very carefully, Marcus," Doctor Hobbs said firmly." I'll release you from Medlab if you promise to take it easy and rest in your quarters. I've monitored your progress these last four days and you're healing fast. Stephen once told me you were a fast healer, I never really believed him."

Marcus smiled contentedly hearing the good news. It was about time they'd let him go. These four days had been enough to drive him nuts. Doctor Hobbs and the nurses had pampered him, Ivanova had brought him a decent meal every evening and Mr. Garibaldi had visited him as well. It had been obvious that the Chief wanted to convince himself that Neroon no longer posed a threat to the ranger. Marcus had endured it all, had even assured Mr. Garibaldi that Neroon could be trusted.

Neroon had kept his promise and had visited him daily. Even though his visits had been brief, they had talked about many things. Marcus discovered they shared an interest in a certain form of Minbari poetry; Tee'la. These poems attempted to recall old memories and prompt new ideas. Minbari were firm believers in reincarnation of the soul and by reading or writing Tee'la they tried to awaken memories, which belonged to a former life. Marcus had been introduced to Tee'la during his Ranger training and although the poetry was very complex, he had grown fond of it.

The Ranger had even managed to convince Neroon to read some human poetry. The only poetry book he owned was a collection of poems written by William Blake. Marcus had enjoyed seeing the confusion on Neroon's face as the warrior had read the first poem. It had been evident the warrior had no idea what Blake was hinting at, so he had told Neroon to take the book with him; read it and perhaps even understand it eventually. Neroon had protested, but he had insisted the Minbari would borrow it. In the end, the warrior had given in.

One hour later, Lennier had come by to visit him and had informed him that Neroon was sitting in the gardens, lost in reading. Marcus hadn't been able to hold back his laughter trying to imagine how the impressive warrior must look spellbound by human poetry. Lennier had stared at him, unsure why he was that cheerful.

"Marcus? Are you listening to me?" Doctor Hobbs sounded concerned. "I asked you a question."

"Sorry, doctor." Marcus forced himself to return to the present. He had to be careful not to give her any reason to keep him here.

"I'll give you a prescription for painkillers in case your ribs act up. Take one if necessary. No running around and getting yourself in trouble, do you understand, Cole?"

"Yes," Marcus replied obediently. "I understand and will rest."

"Good," Doctor Hobbs muttered. "I'll check on you every day. You can pack your things and go home."

Not wasting a single moment Marcus swung his feet to the floor. As Doctor Hobbs left his room, he grabbed the suitcase Lennier had brought him and after changing his clothing, began to pack the few things the young Minbari had brought him during his stay in Medlab. A voice coming from behind, startled him momentarily as an ugly memory intruded on his thoughts. A flashback of Neroon towering over him, ready to strike that fatal blow made him cringe.

"Marcus," Neroon said with a hint of confusion in his rich voice, "these poems, I need your help to understand them." He studied the disheveled Ranger. Marcus had been in the process of getting dressed. It must have been a struggle for him to get into that turtleneck shirt. The only thing lacking was the long cloak. The green eyes that answered his gaze were laughing and alive with energy. Neroon was pleased to discover that their fight had done no permanent damage.

"What do you want to know, Neroon?" In an attempt to avoid putting pressure on his mending ribs, Marcus sat down slowly on the bed and smiled at the warrior. It had never occurred to him that Neroon might take these poems seriously. Surprised, he observed the inquiring expression in the warrior's dark eyes. Marcus was still not sure why he felt so damned comfortable in Neroon's presence. He had expected to find Neroon arrogant and conceited, but those terms didn't really apply to the warrior seated opposite him. Curious, polite and even friendly were more appropriate terms to describe Neroon. Perhaps their fight had created a bond between them.

"What is an angel?" Neroon asked calmly, wondering about the answer.

"What?" Marcus swallowed, never expecting that one. He should have known the warrior would show up asking difficult questions. Why had he given Neroon that poetry book in the first place? How could he ever answer that question properly? Well, he had to try, after all it was at his request Neroon had read the poems.

"What is an angel?" Neroon repeated, a grin illuminating his face. Now it was his turn to confuse the Ranger.

"Which poem did you read?" Marcus asked, desperately trying to stall more time. He watched Neroon open the book and turn the pages. It was only when Neroon began to recite the first lines of the poem that he realized how deep and sensual the Minbari's voice was. He felt enthralled and couldn't tear himself away from listening; devouring every word the warrior spoke.

"Thou fair-hair'd angel of the evening

Now, whilst the sun rests on the mountains, light

Thy bright torch of love; thy radiant crown

Put on, and smile upon our evening bed."

A silence lingered in the room for some moments as Marcus tried hard to think of what to say or to do. He was supposed to be in his quarters by now, resting, not discussing poetry with a Minbari warrior who wanted to know what an angel was. Sighing, he plunged ahead. "An angel is portrayed as a radiant messenger from God; who is an all-knowing presence which created the universe. Angels are perceived as being creatures of light, and goodness. They're the guardians of mankind. Angels accompany people on their journey through life, inspiring, consoling, protecting and sometimes punishing. It's said that they'll awaken the souls of the dead, steer them gently through the trials of judgment and lead them through the gates of Paradise.  Some people say they actually exist, have seen these magnificent winged beings. Others say this whole concept is medieval and angels never existed; that living beings, who try hard to help others are the closest thing to angels. After all, it's a matter of faith and religion." Marcus saw the alert expression in Neroon's eyes.

"Please continue your explanation," the warrior demanded in a soft whisper. "I find this very intriguing."

Realizing the warrior was waiting for more information, Marcus had no other choice than to give in. He could only hope Neroon wasn't going to ask him more about the concept of God, then he would be in real trouble.

"How can a living being, let us say a human, be like an.... angel?" Neroon asked in a thoughtful tone. He had never before heard of angels and this human poetry was hard to comprehend, but he was determined to master it.

"By doing good deeds. By helping others who are less fortunate, by easing someone's pain... by not being selfish," Marcus answered, trying hard to explain a certainly alien concept to the warrior. He remembered one of Blake's proverbs. "To quote William Blake himself; the most sublime act is to set another before you."

Neroon listened, absorbing every word. These humans might not be that different after all. Everything Marcus had told him sounded familiar; true searchers were also found amongst Minbari. Perhaps he could answer the ranger with another quote. Searching his memory for one moment, he recalled the right words. "Minbari have a similar saying. The capacity for self-sacrifice: the conscious ability to override evolution and self-preservation for a cause, a friend or a loved one."

Marcus nodded. He had heard about this teaching. "Yes, you could make that comparison."

Not yet satisfied, Neroon endeavored to ask one more question. "These angels, what appearance do they possess?"

Marcus was on the edge of desperation. He had hoped he had answered Neroon's question sufficiently, but now... "Another human poet --Dante-- described angels as the bright birds of God. In art angels appear with the wings of a bird, but with the figure of a perfect man. Radiant haloes surround angel's heads and they possess a heavenly beauty." This discussion was draining him and he was going to end it now. "Neroon, I'll be more than happy to discuss this another time, but I need to get back to my quarters. Doctor Hobbs is only waiting for a reason to keep me here."

"Thank you for explaining this concept to me, Marcus," the warrior muttered, lost in thought. " I would like to discuss this further with you in future." Straightening out his uniform, Neroon tucked the book away into one of his pockets and studied the ranger. He had a lot to think about upon returning to his quarters later. But first he wanted to make sure Marcus got to his quarters without incident. "Will you allow me to walk you to your rooms? You still appear a bit unsteady on your feet."

At first Marcus wanted to decline, but after giving the request a second thought saw no harm in it. Had Stephen been here, he would have escorted him as well. "One condition though, Neroon..." Marcus said in mock aggravation. "No more questions about angels and William Blake for now."

"Agreed. " Neroon was hardly able to stifle his grin. "Permit me to carry this." Picking up the small suitcase, they made their way out of Medlab.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~       

Unable to repress a sigh upon entering his quarters, Marcus headed toward the only comfortable chair in the room. His ribs ached and his eyes were slipping shut every so often. Doctor Hobbs had been right; he needed to rest. He hardly registered Neroon putting down the suitcase and turning to study his small collection of books. Curling up in the chair, he fell asleep within seconds, completely forgetting about Neroon.

After having satisfied his curiosity concerning the Ranger's book collection, Neroon turned to address Marcus. He remained silent though finding the Ranger asleep. It took him a moment to make up his mind; then he stole over to the chair and studied Marcus' features. Relaxed in sleep, he wondered about Marcus' beauty. Their earlier discussion came back to mind. To him, Marcus possessed that heavenly beauty of an angel.

The need to touch that silky hair washed through him and he gave into that urge. Careful not to wake Marcus, Neroon fingered one strand of soft hair. This human was truly amazing. The thing that baffled Neroon most was that Marcus felt comfortable enough to have him around after their earlier confrontation in Down Below. There had never been any tension, only an odd sense of understanding.

Letting go of the softness between his fingers, Neroon spotted a blanket and a pillow in a corner of the room. Apparently the Ranger owned neither a bed nor a sleeping platform. Neroon picked up the blanket and proceeded to tuck it around Marcus' sleeping form. It was time to leave the Ranger to his sleep and to return to his own quarters. Perhaps Marcus would be willing to share a meal with him later. As the door opened, Neroon glanced back one more time. Sleep well, my angel.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marcus woke several hours later in his quarters. He slowly rose to his feet, feeling thirsty and burned out. The fatigue refused to go away; he needed a lot of sleep to get back to his former shape. Well, at least Neroon wasn't around to ask him more questions about angels. The truth was that he avoided religious discussions whenever possible.

After boiling some water for his tea, he sat down again in the chair sipping the hot liquid. It had been years since he had last thought of that little prayer his mother had taught him to reach out to his guardian angel. For years he had recited it before going to bed. It had comforted him to know there was someone watching over him; a guardian angel that would keep him safe.

His mother had been a religious soul, but had never enforced her ideas upon him. Even now he could still hear her voice, telling him about this loving presence that guarded the universe and his winged messengers.   

When William and he had been children their mother used to rock them and tell them stories about angels. She had aroused his curiosity one night. William had already been asleep as his mother sat down on the bed close to him. He still recalled her words as if they had been spoken only a moment ago. "There's great power in knowing the name of one's guardian angel, Marc," she had whispered. "Do you want to know the name of your angel?"

Truly awed that she seemed to know that name he had nodded.

"Your guardian angel is Azrael; most people know him by his other, more common name, Raphael. He's the Angel of Death, very powerful. You should talk to him in your prayers, my son. He will console you when you're sad."

Marcus shifted in the chair. Yes, he had prayed to his guardian angel for many years; had believed and trusted in his mother's words and faith. It had stopped the night the Shadows attacked Arisia. With broken voice he had called upon Azrael as William died in his arms. That night had robbed him of his faith. What God could approve of such an injustice?

The Minbari teachers had told him about their beliefs during ranger training and he had only partly accepted them. He did believe there was a universal soul that had given life to the universe as well as all races. The thought of rebirth comforted and revolted him at the same time. The fact that the Minbari worshipped Valen so greatly made him feel uncomfortable, knowing Sinclair had traveled back in time to become the fabled leader.

Why did Neroon have to ask him about angels? The warrior's questions had opened the old wound again and it hurt. Not wanting to think about it any longer he concentrated on his tea, which had cooled down. He emptied the cup and placed it on the floor. His stomach growled, demanding food.

Reluctantly, he made his way over to the fridge and opened it; nothing edible inside. Great. The last thing he wanted to do was to head down to the Zocalo and buy groceries. He was pondering his dilemma when the computer announced an incoming message. "Play message," he ordered warily. The screen flashed to life and Neroon's face appeared. He had to admit that he wasn't really surprised to hear from Neroon.

"Marcus, Lennier recommended a certain restaurant I had to try. I was wondering if you wanted to accompany me?" Neroon asked politely, his expression masked perfectly.

"I need to eat any way. All right, I'll accompany you." Marcus accepted the invitation, even looking forward to spending the evening with Neroon.

"Good. I will meet you at your quarters in 30 minutes."

The screen went dark and Marcus dragged his exhausted body back to the chair. Perhaps he would be able to get some more sleep. Suddenly wondering about the blanket that had warmed him, he realized Neroon must have placed it on top of him. The moment he rested his head against the softness of the chair, he slipped back into sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Psi Corps Headquarters 

"Sir?" Dana said. "Alfred Bester has just left Headquarters. Our informants are certain he'll be gone for several weeks. There was a lot of secretiveness surrounding his departure. He left on his own." It was the first time she had been granted access to his office and she looked around rather curiously. The office had been painted white and breathed and air of cold sterility which suited its inhabitant. The young Psi Cop saw the excitement in Caim's eyes. She recognized that expression; it was the thrill of an imminent hunt.

"You did well to inform me immediately, Dana. Make sure there's someone following him. Keep me updated of his actions. If necessary, we'll have to move quickly," Caim stated in a cold tone. He expected something like this to happen. Bester had been distancing himself for some days now. Probably afraid I would break through his shields and read his treacherous intentions. Caim dismissed his new assistant and contacted the small group of telepaths that truly controlled Psi Corps. He needed their permission to go after Bester.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leaving the depressing buildings behind him, Bester didn't look back. He had made his decision and now he had to carry it out. His contacts had arranged for a safe transport that would take him to Babylon 5. Clasping his gloved hands, he concentrated on fortifying his mental defense shields, which needed to be in perfect condition for this upcoming mission.

It had been years since he had worked in the field himself, but he hadn't forgotten the basic rules he had learned during training. The most important one was to never leave a trace that could lead the hound back to his tracks. He had done his best to keep his departure a secret, but realized only too well that Caim would find out quickly.

He had changed his clothing on purpose. No longer wearing his Psi Corps uniform he could pass for a mundane. The flyer he was in was registered as belonging to a merchant. It would take Caim a while to find a trace. Bester knew this was going to be the most dangerous mission of his life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Babylon 5

Vexed, Neroon stared at the lines of the poem he had been reading. Why did he have to read  this one right now? He should have simply refused accepting the booklet. No, his curiosity, his need to understand humans would have driven him to read it any way. But this particular poem seemed to have been written in the past to reach out to him in future. It gave a perfect description of his present state of mind. Dark eyes chased along the lines once more, to fully grasp their meaning.

Eternity

He who binds to himself a joy

Does the winged life destroy

But he who kisses the joy as it flies

Lives in eternity's sun rise

O lapwing thou fliest around the heath

Nor seest the net that is spread beneath

Why dost thou not fly among the corn fields

They cannot spread nets where a harvest yields

If you trap the moment before its ripe

The tears of repentance youll certainly wipe

But if once you let the moment ripe

You can never wipe of the tears of woe

Putting aside the book, Neroon pondered his current situation. His attraction toward Marcus was growing and he wasn't sure how to handle that. It wasn't time yet to tell Marcus. If he told Marcus now he was afraid he might destroy that 'winged life' and harvest those 'tears of repentance'. It was obvious Marcus knew nothing of his feelings or predicament. Perhaps he should listen to the advice this poet seemed to offer him from the past, wait for the right moment, no matter how long the wait would be.

But there was something else troubling him, Marcus' recklessness. The way Marcus jumped into dangerous, possibly life-threatening situations was going to get the Ranger killed very soon. The fact that Marcus had been willing to fight him to the death was proof enough.

For now, Marcus' injuries would prevent him from diving into fights, but what would happen once they were healed? Angry with himself, Neroon flung the book onto the floor and began pacing the room. And why did he have to care this much for a human? It had never been his intention to fall in love again, certainly not with a human Ranger. But he didn't have any choice in this matter. He felt what he felt, period.

He suddenly remembered telling Marcus that he would meet him at his quarters in thirty minutes. Better be on my way then. Picking up the book, he placed it on the table and remained motionless for a moment. Humans, they upended my life.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The door chime woke him from a dreamless sleep. Forcing open his heavy eyelids, Marcus wondered where he was, then remembered Doctor Hobbs had given him permission to go back to his quarters. Sounding a second time, the door chime urged him to get up from his chair. Fighting a lingering remnant of dizziness, Marcus managed to remain firm on his feet.

"Enter." The moment the door opened he remembered Neroon's dinner invitation; he'd almost forgotten about that. Neroon looked calm as he strode into the room. Neroon was wearing his black cloak and had pulled the hood over his face. "Give me one moment, Neroon," he said, walking over to the small bathroom to wash his face. "I must have fallen asleep again after you left." Splashing some water into his face, it drove away the fatigue for now. But how long would it stay away? He hoped he wouldn't fall asleep during dinner. Damn, he'd forgotten about his ribs! They hurt while putting on his ranger cloak. Trying hard to hide the pain he heard Neroon catch his breath. He noticed the concern in Neroon's facial expression and thought it seemed strangely out of place. "What? What is it, Neroon?"

"Are you sure you are up to leaving your quarters?" Neroon didn't like to see pain in Marcus' eyes.

"Oh yes. Don't worry about it. I'll be fine. So where are we having dinner?"

Neroon waited for Marcus to join him in the corridor, wondering if this was such a good idea after all. He shouldn't be seeking Marcus' company, it would only strengthen the attraction he felt towards the Ranger. Perhaps he should excuse himself and return to his rooms. No, he immediately dismissed that idea; an invitation couldn't be withdrawn at this belated moment. "Lennier told me of a restaurant that serves Minbari as well as human dishes."

Careful not to breathe too deeply, Marcus fell into step beside Neroon and couldn't repress a chuckle. Neroon promptly looked at him. "Sorry Neroon," he apologized, "I never expected us to become friends after our little bout in Down Below." Marcus was looking down at the floor, making sure he wasn't going to trip over something and missed seeing the stunned expression on the warrior's face.

Friends? When did we become friends? Neroon didn't know what to think of Marcus' comment. He liked the idea of being friends, but it was also a major step to take. It meant trusting the Ranger. Neroon had always taken friendships very seriously. As a warrior it was important to know one's friends from one's enemies. It also complicated things. He would have to remain silent about his personal feelings if he didn't want to endanger this fragile beginning. In his mind he heard Delenn's pleased laughter. Imagination... Yet it seemed so real. Yes, she would be pleased to learn they had managed to settle their differences.

"Neroon? Is something wrong? You're awfully quiet." Marcus wondered what troubled the warrior. The expression in Neroon's eyes was hard to read.

"Nothing is wrong, Marcus," Neroon assured the Ranger, then decided to change the subject. "I hope you know your way around here. The Zocalo is very crowded."

That wasn't what you wanted to say. I wonder what it is you're hiding, Neroon. Marcus' musings were interrupted when they arrived at the restaurant. A human waiter seated them in them back. Marcus scanned the surroundings and was surprised to see Delenn and the Captain at the far right of their table. Not sure whether to go over there and pay her his respects, he decided to stay where he was and hope Delenn wouldn't notice him. It left him with a guilty conscience, but it felt so good to be able to sit down again.

Following Marcus' stare with his eyes, Neroon discovered the other party as well. He decided to pay them no attention at this point. Pulling down the hood he focused his gaze back on Marcus. The paleness of the Ranger's face worried him.

"Would the gentlemen care for a drink?"

Neroon glared at the waiter, who clearly wished someone else could handle this table. It made him proud to know he could still intimidate someone by merely looking at him. He waited for Marcus to answer the waiter first, curious to what the Ranger would order.

"I would like a cup of tea," Marcus said, catching Neroon's gaze.

"Make that two," Neroon added, a smile surfacing on his face. Tea was a good idea; a drink he was familiar with. He was pleased that Marcus hadn't ordered any alcohol. Marcus would know what kind of effect alcohol had on a Minbari; it would make him paranoid and rather aggressive. "Delenn and your Captain are here as well. They seem to care a lot for each other."

Marcus wondered why Neroon had made that remark. By now, he had learned there was always a reason for the Minbari to make a certain comment. "They're in love. At least that's what Lennier thinks." The look Neroon gave him made him shiver momentarily. He somehow knew Neroon was going to say something disconcerting.

"Do you approve of their relationship? After all, she is Minbari and he human. Should our races not remain pure?" Neroon studied Marcus very carefully and saw a shocked expression in the green eyes.

"Well, to be honest... I think race should matter very little when in love," Marcus whispered, wondering what he was getting himself into. "I never understood this absurd urge to fight the mingling of blood. It's a very narrow-minded view." Well, at least he had been honest. An uncomfortable silence followed his statement. Thankfully, the waiter returned to bring their tea and take their orders. In a hurry he studied the menu card. Neroon's eyes still rested on him and Marcus wondered if he had insulted the warrior by speaking out.

"I will have the Maadi-flowers filled with honey," Neroon told the waiter, choosing a traditional Minbari dish. He glanced at Marcus and saw the unease clearly written across his features.

"Make that two," Marcus said, trying to smile. He failed and while handing back the menu card, he cast a look in Delenn's direction. She still hadn't noticed them.

After the waiter had left, Neroon leaned closer over the table trying to catch Marcus' expression who in turn immediately averted his eyes. What had happened just now to cause this unsettled feeling? They had been talking about interracial relationships and Neroon had to admit that Marcus could have interpreted his statement the wrong way. "Let me clarify my words, for I think we are misunderstanding each other," Neroon started. "Up until some days ago I would have condemned Delenn for choosing a human as her mate, but my beliefs seem to be changing... Humans," Neroon stopped, not sure what he was trying to tell Marcus. One look at Marcus' eyes however told him that the Ranger understood perfectly.

"There's no need to say more, Neroon. I understand what you're trying to say. It must be hard for you to accept that we aren't as despicable as you always thought... You're only now realizing we might be your equals."

"Bold words, Marcus, but I have to admit they are true." Neroon wasn't sure what he felt at hearing Marcus' remark. Yes, equals, that was the word he had been looking for. A bright smile appeared on the Ranger's face and Neroon began to cheer up as well. "No more confrontation tonight," Neroon said, wanting to continue but the Ranger interrupted him.

"And no more talk of angels, Neroon."

The smile faded and Neroon saw something sad in the Ranger's clouded eyes.

Aware of the fact that Neroon was carefully studying him, Marcus felt relieved as the waiter returned to place two dishes in front of them. Maadi-flowers, never ate those before. The bright blue flowers were filled with syrup made of honey and something that resembled chestnuts. Seeing Neroon pick up his utensils he did the same thing. The filling tasted sweet and he wondered if the flowers were edible as well. Then he saw Neroon eat one of them. The conversation had come to a stop and he hated this silence. "Why did you choose this dish?"

Briefly looking up at Marcus, Neroon finished his meal and leaned back into the chair. "It was my mother's favorite," the warrior explained, realizing it was time to share some of his history with Marcus. "Both my parents were Religious Caste and did not eat any meat. As a young child I learned to follow their ways. My mother used to pick and prepare Maadi-flowers herself. After I decided to become a warrior, we lost touch."

"Are they still alive?" Marcus asked, hesitance obvious in his tone. This was the first time Neroon had opened up to him; had told him something personal. It made him wonder why.

"No, they died during the Earth-Minbari war." Neroon's voice was soft, almost inaudible.

Marcus shuddered. It was evident that remembering his parents' death hurt Neroon and he regretted asking that question. "I'm sorry for your loss, Neroon."

Hearing the sincerity in those words was like a soothing balm to Neroon's old scars. He smiled and looked Marcus in the eyes. "They will always continue to live on in my heart." Pushing the now empty plate away from him, he beckoned the waiter and ordered more tea. Satiated, he enjoyed studying Marcus who had finished eating as well. He desperately wanted to ask Marcus a question, but knew the time wasn't right to do so. Why had Marcus been so upset at his request to be told about angels?

"You chose an excellent restaurant, Neroon," Marcus complimented him, attempting to break the silence between them.

"Lennier was the one who told me about it," Neroon replied, " but yes, the food was superb." Neroon could feel the tension between them and he was determined to restore the earlier feeling of understanding. "I think it is time to leave. Would you do me a favor, Marcus?"

Marcus however, noticed that the smile didn't quite reach his eyes. They were both fighting with unpleasant memories. Neroon had lost his parents, while he had lost his faith. Forcing back the memories into a dark corner of his mind, he finally registered Neroon's request. "What kind of favor?"

"This Zocalo... I want to see more of it." Neroon noticed the sigh of relief that flowed from Marcus' lips.

"That's all?" Marcus didn't know what he had expected Neroon would ask of him, but this he could do. Neroon dropped some credits onto the table as he rose to his feet. It was more than enough to pay their bill. Marcus was briefly astonished to see Neroon had credits on him, but then decided not to give it any more thought. Delenn had probably given the money to him. Neroon was waiting for him to get to his feet as well. A bit reluctantly he rose from his chair, relieved the vertigo appeared to be gone for now. He did feel weak though.

"Marcus? Neroon?" Delenn sounded truly amazed. Only now did she see them and beckoned them over to their table. Sheridan shot her a dark glance at this interruption, but composed himself quickly.

Realizing there was no way out, Marcus led the way, closely followed by Neroon. "Entil'Zha, Captain," Marcus greeted them, bowing slightly.

"It is good to see you are feeling better, Marcus. Doctor Hobbs told me she released you from Medlab today," Delenn said warmly. Sheridan muttered something similar.

Looking at the Captain's plate, Marcus hid a chuckle. Delenn had made Sheridan eat Flarn and the Captain didn't seem to like it. Sensing a movement behind him, he stepped aside. Neroon bowed as well, but he could tell Neroon wanted to leave here as quickly as possible.

"Neroon, I trust your quarters are satisfactory?" Delenn asked politely.

 "Yes, they are. Thank you for arranging them."

"Excuse us, Entil'Zha, but Neroon requested a tour of the Zocalo..." Marcus said apologetically.

Delenn nodded her consent and both men quickly left the restaurant.

"Do you trust Neroon, Delenn?" Sheridan inquired. " If you don't, I can have him removed from the station."

" No, John," Delenn replied seriously. "I don't think he will cause any more trouble. Neroon has finally accepted change into his life. He may turn out to be very valuable in our struggle against the Shadows. As a warrior he has fought many battles, gathered a lot of experience... We need warriors to command the White Stars. I am inclined to give him a chance. Marcus seems to trust him."

The Captain watched her intensely; she was beautiful when scheming.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

"So this is the Zocalo?" Neroon inquired, watching the gamblers and dealers trying to find some customers.

"Yes, and a very valuable source for information as well."

Walking the Zocalo together they attracted many curious looks. Most of these lurkers had never before seen a Minbari warrior.

"Feels like it could be a dangerous place as well," the warrior remarked. He checked for his pike which Delenn had had delivered to him that morning. It had been cleaned and the mechanism worked perfectly once more. The knowledge that he carried a weapon made Neroon feel secure. He was wondering though... "Marcus, do you bear me a grudge? I almost killed you." Wondering where this question suddenly came from, Neroon concentrated on the hungry eyes surrounding them, looking for credits, searching for victims, which could be easily robbed.

Not expecting to hear that question, Marcus cautiously shrugged his shoulders. "No, I'm just glad things worked out eventually. I knew what I was getting myself into, Neroon." A sudden commotion to his left caught his attention. Wondering what was causing it, he turned to Neroon. "I better check on that; one never knows what is going on down here."

"Then let me go with you," Neroon demanded. "You are not able to defend yourself should trouble arise."

Marcus didn't like the 'you are not able to defend yourself ' bit, but realized Neroon was probably right. Moving quickly, they forced a way through the thickening crowd. It was amazing to see how many people stepped back to make way for them upon seeing the Minbari warrior who had bared his teeth. He suddenly realized people were afraid of Neroon and he wasn't sure what to think of that.

"Look," Neroon whispered, for Marcus' ears only.

Yes, he saw it as well. Marcus hurried toward a man who was staggering on his feet. It looked like he could drop to the floor any minute now. As he got closer, he got a better view of the apparently injured man who was clutching his stomach. His heart missed a beat as he recognized his friend. "Stephen? Neroon, we have got to help him!"

Quickening his pace, he hoped Neroon was still right behind him. What the hell was Franklin doing in this rat-hole? He knew Stephen had disappeared to deal with his addiction to stims, but to find him here, wounded, was something he never expected. The crowd seemed to have lost interest in the spectacle and had moved away.

"You know him?" Neroon asked, studying the stumbling man they were approaching.

"Yes," Marcus explained in hushed tone. "He's a friend."

Finally, they reached Franklin. Neroon gently pushed Marcus out of his way to prevent Stephen from taking down Marcus as well should he fall. Marcus was too weak to support Stephen. A moment later he clasped his arms around the injured man, taking firmly hold of him.

Momentarily confused at why Neroon had pushed him away, Marcus understood at last. The warrior thought him still too hampered by his mending ribs to carry Stephen.

"Marcus?"

Stephen's voice shook from some emotion Marcus couldn't identify.

"I want another chance, I want to do it all over again. It can't end like this. I want to do it all over again."

"Everything will be all right, Stephen," Marcus said reassuringly. "We'll take you to Medlab." Looking up at Neroon, he noticed that the Minbari was pressing one hand against a wound, which was bleeding profusely. Stephen was losing blood very rapidly.

"I will carry him," Neroon stated, soothingly, trying to calm Marcus down. Acting immediately, he lifted the injured human from the floor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Somebody help him!" Marcus called out, concerned for his friend. "Doctor Hobbs?"

"Marcus? I didn't expect you back this soon..." Doctor Hobbs froze when she discovered the still body of Stephen Franklin in Neroon's arms. She beckoned the warrior to put Stephen on the exam bed and ran a scan on her colleague. At her call several medics appeared to help.

Marcus gestured Neroon they had to leave. Returning to the waiting area once more they encountered Garibaldi.

"Marcus? What happened?" the Chief asked concerned, keeping one watchful eye on Neroon who was partly covered in blood.

"It's Stephen," Marcus said. "We found him amongst the lurkers, wounded, bleeding profusely."

"In that case I better contact the Captain."

Garibaldi left the room and Marcus sat down, all of a sudden aware how hard his heart was pounding. His ribs ached badly and the vertigo had reappeared.

"Is something wrong, Marcus?" Neroon's tone was worried.

"I just need to catch my breath," the ranger replied trying to take away Neroon's concern, but a sharp flash of pain moving through his ribcage made him double over.

"You are not being honest, Marcus," Neroon declared in earnest. "I will get a doctor."

The Ranger wanted to stop him, but the pain took over. Damn, he shouldn't have run through the corridors. Bugger, now the room starts to spin as well! He didn't notice Neroon leaving the waiting area. Closing his eyes, he tried to make the pain go away by sheer will power; it didn't work. Marcus was dazed, and could hardly interpret sensations as diagnostic equipment beeped in his ears. A numb pressure signified that his blood was being filling with something cold.

"It's only a painkiller, Mister Cole," the assistant explained. "Doctor Franklin is in good hands; there's no reason for you to wait here. You should return to your quarters and rest."

Relieved to feel the pain, diminish Marcus nodded. He knew the young assistant was right, but his rooms seemed so far away at this moment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Looking through half open eyes, Marcus couldn't remember how he had gotten here. He was back in his own quarters; a blanket tucked around him. The pain killer worked well; the pain was gone. Wary, he stopped fighting the fatigue and began to slip back into sleep.

Satisfied, Neroon walked toward the Ranger. After he had carried Marcus back to his quarters he had watched the human for some time to make sure Marcus was going to be all right. Stroking back some strands of hair, which had fallen into the Ranger’s face, he wondered about this human, who wanted to help so badly. "Rest now, my angel and let go off all your worries." He turned and resolutely left the room.

Unsure of his feelings, Marcus opened his eyes again after the door had closed behind Neroon. What had the warrior called him? Angel? A tear escaped his eyes and nestled on his cheek. Too exhausted to ponder why the Minbari would call him that, Marcus surrendered to his fatigue.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Still feeling a bit groggy, Marcus hesitantly opened his eyes. Although his ribs continued to ache the pain was bearable. It was surprisingly cold in his quarters and he pulled up the blanket to keep warm. In his foggy state he didn't think of ordering the computer to raise room temperature. A memory fought its way back and hovered on the surface of his mind.

Neroon had called him an angel. Not sure why he was so upset about that, Marcus moved his body into a different position. His limbs were cramped, demanding he started moving about, but for some reason he felt absolutely no necessity to get up from his chair. He was warm, cozy, and sleepy; and closed his eyes again.

His thoughts returned to the warrior whose behavior puzzled him. Why was Neroon still on the station? And why did Neroon spend so much time with him? The answer was battering at the edges of his mind, but he didn't want to allow it in. There was only one answer he could think of and it somehow scared the hell out of him.

Was it possible that Neroon was attracted to him, but refused to admit it even to himself? Or did the warrior know, but prefer not to act on it? He remembered the tender tone as Neroon had called him an angel. Hopefully he was wrong and Neroon was just very curious to learn more about humans and their ways; perhaps the warrior had chosen him as some sort of teacher.

He certainly hoped he was mistaken and that Neroon had no 'romantic' interest in him. Why do I hope I'm wrong? Am I afraid of him... Or of my feelings? Where had that thought come from? He forced himself to stop thinking about Neroon; the Minbari confused him.

This situation reminded him of the conversation he had had with Ivanova. He would hate having to give a similar speech to the Minbari. Suddenly he found himself in a reversed situation; someone wanted him. I'm drawing conclusions without knowing Neroon's true feelings for sure. I'm sure I'm wrong about them. It's just the aftermath of our fight.

Pleasantly dozing off, Marcus realized he didn't have to report for duty today, nor for the next week; he could sleep late if he wanted to. He seldom indulged himself this way, but the idea of getting more sleep was truly appealing. It didn't take him long to fall sleep again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   

Neroon impatiently paced his quarters. Sleep eluded him and for most of the night he had been pondering his present 'relationship' with Marcus. Friends... Ccould he settle for being merely friends?

Extending his pike, he focused himself from within and began some very demanding exercises in an attempt to forget Marcus. It didn't take him long to lose himself in the dance-like movements. He had neglected his training for days and it was time to make up for it. Beginning yet another series of attacks, Neroon aimed his pike at an imaginary opponent. Working out after such a long time made him feel good, but it didn't bring him any peace of mind.

He stopped, collapsed his pike and tucked it away. It was breakfast time and he wondered if Marcus was already awake. He briefly considered sending the Ranger a message, but then shrugged it off. It might appear that he was intruding on Marcus' privacy, claiming too much of his time. Slipping into his cloak, he walked in to the corridor. After having studied the map of the station's facilities some nights ago, he'd memorized the restaurants. Making sure he had some credits in his pocket, he walked to the core tube and got on, ignoring the inquisitive looks he attracted.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   

Waking for a second time, Marcus realized it was way past noon. It would probably be best to start moving around a bit. His body felt like solid ice. Wrapping the blanket more tightly around him, he rose from the chair and found that his back hurt as well as his ribs. Perhaps he should get a bed in here. Sleeping in a chair wasn't doable at this point. Doctor Hobbs might be persuaded to help him in getting a cot.

Strolling over to his small kitchen unit he remembered there was no food in the fridge. Leaning against the wall, Marcus slowly dropped the blanket on to the floor. There was no way out; he needed to get some lunch. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes he yawned. Tea wouldn't really do the trick of waking him up this time. Caff would be more like it. He seldom drank caff and didn't have any in his quarters. It's rather obvious I'm not home very often. Marcus looked at his 'restrained' quarters as Lennier had put it. Home, actually looks like no one lives here. I should decorate the place a bit. It doesn't look restrained, it looks deserted.

Wondering why he was feeling this depressed all of a sudden he opted for some action, which might rid him of his somber thoughts. After straightening out his uniform he left his quarters and headed towards Medlab for two reasons. He wanted to check on Stephen; the Doctor had been in a bad way when they had taken him to Medlab. The second reason was more of a practical nature. Although the food served in Medlab was absolutely tasteless, he could try and score a meal, avoiding a long walk the Zocalo. He was disturbed to discover that he missed Neroon's company.

Upon arriving at Medlab, Marcus was surprised to find the place empty and almost deserted. There appeared to be hardly any patients. Although he had been trying hard to avoid being discovered by Doctor Hobbs, he failed.

"Marcus," she said, with a grin on her face, "you're here; that's perfect. Now I don't have to go to your quarters."

Seriously considering making a run for the exit, Marcus had to let go of that idea as the doctor dragged him into an exam room. He decided he would gladly deal with Stephen's nagging any time instead of Doctor Hobbs' persistent need to check on him. She's almost like a squid, when she gets hold of you... I better give up hope. "How is Stephen doing?"

"Thankfully you brought him in. You probably saved his life," she explained as she probed his ribs. "We closed the wound and he turned out to be an even worse patient than you were. There was no way we could keep him in bed."

Choking back his pain, Marcus wished she would be done with examining his injuries. " Let me guess, Stephen is driving you nuts already?"

"Sort of, " Doctor Hobbs admitted. "He found himself a wheelchair in the storage facility. You better be careful he doesn't run you over."

Hearing the chuckle in her voice made Marcus smile. He had been afraid Stephen's injuries would be much more severe.

"Your ribs are healing nicely," she said, looking up at his eyes to check if they were clear and not glazed. "As long as you take it slow you should make a full recovery in one week. Let me see your wrists."

Presenting his hands to her, Marcus waited impatiently for Doctor Hobbs to end this. Marcus peeked at his wrists, the welts were still raw. The bleeding had stopped, but they looked ugly; he would probably be left with some scars.

"I'm not satisfied with the way this looks, Marcus," Doctor Hobbs stated, running her fingertips over the not yet healed tissue. "I'm going to apply that balm once more. You wait here for me."

As she left the room, Marcus reached for his turtleneck shirt. She had helped him out of it and he knew putting it back on would be the hard part. His ribs protested fiercely and he dropped the shirt into his lap. He would have to ask for her help later. A strange metallic sound attracted his attention; something bumped into a door.

"Marcus? Are you in here? I thought I heard your voice.... Stupid medieval wheelchair...." One moment later, the door was slammed open and Stephen managed to steer his wheelchair into the exam room. Both men stared at each other for a moment.

Franklin saw the bandages around the Ranger's chest and wondered what Marcus had been up to this time. Some seconds later, he noticed the welts on his friend's wrists. "Marcus? I knew you were injured, but not this badly." Stephen desperately wanted to know why there were shadows of slits around the Ranger's wrists. His first thought had been that Marcus had tried to kill himself... but he quickly dismissed that idea. Why would his friend do such a thing?

"Had a run in with an angry Minbari warrior, but it's nothing serious," Marcus wanted to continue, but Stephen interrupted him.

"Lillian told me about Neroon, but she didn't mention he was the one who did this to you..." Stephen smiled weakly at his friend. "Marcus, thanks for taking me to Medlab. If it hadn't be for you, I would be dead now."

"Well, it was Neroon who carried you all the way, I would never have been able to lift you with these mending ribs." Marcus said, trying to lighten the mood. "Doctor Hobbs thinks I can go back on duty in one week."

"Hey, I heard that, Cole," Doctor Hobbs said. "I never said you could go back on duty; I said you could make a full recovery in one week. Looks like that concussion must have shaken up those brain cells of yours a little more than I thought."

Marcus cringed, hearing those words, he would die of boredom.

"Concussion? Marcus, I don't like the sound of this." Stephen pushed his wheelchair closer and snatched the Ranger's medical file from the bed. Observing Lillian as she applied the balm, Stephen forced his attention onto the file.

"Stephen, you should be resting as well," Doctor Hobbs stated in a somewhat angry tone. "You lost a lot of blood."

"I'm just fine, Lillian." While reading the report he remained silent. Placing it back onto the bed he looked Marcus in the eyes. "You challenged that guy to the death?" Disbelief filled Stephen's voice. "Do you realize you were in a coma when you got here? What the hell did you think you were doing?"

"Saving Delenn's life..." Marcus said under his breath. Coming to Medlab had been a bad idea, even when that balm did feel soothing to his wounds. "Why do I have to defend my actions time and time again? I did what needed to be done. There was no other way of stopping Neroon."

"Marcus," Stephen started, locking eyes with his friend, "it's because we care for you. We don't want you to get hurt."

"I know," Marcus admitted hesitantly, "but could we please stop talking about that Denn'Sha challenge? You'd better get some food in here, I'm starving."

A wavering smile appeared on Stephen's face as he pushed his chair toward a Babcom unit, ordering some lunch. He feared that one day Marcus' recklessness would get him killed.

"Be still, Marcus. I'm almost done," Doctor Hobbs admonished the ranger. "I'm going to bandage your wrists as well. That way the balm can unfold its full effect."

Knowing how futile it was to protest Marcus complied and sat still. At least Stephen had ordered something to eat.

"So, what were you doing in the Zocalo with Neroon? If he had tried to kill me, I would stay as far away from him as possible."

"We had dinner and Neroon... " Marcus felt the need to defend the warrior, --why?-- but didn't know what to say.

"Yes?" Stephen saw the confused look on the Ranger's face.

"Neroon makes good company." It sounded stupid, but it was the only thing he was able to come up with. Sighing audibly, he allowed Doctor Hobbs to help him into his shirt. He didn't like seeing the bandages around his wrists. "Looks like I tried to commit suicide."  The next moment Doctor Hobbs was pulling down his sleeves a little further and the bandages disappeared from sight. "Thanks," muttering softly, he watched her leave the exam room. A nurse entered instead and placed a tray on the bed and left the two of them alone.

"Are you that hungry? Marcus, you're taking good care of yourself, aren't you?" Stephen inquired, watching the ranger attack the food. He must be starved to actually eat Medlab-food without complaining about it.

"My fridge is empty and I'm too tired to get some groceries." The words were uttered between bites. "And yes, I am taking care of myself..."

It was evident that Marcus had wanted to add something to that and Stephen's curiosity got the better of him. "And?"

Cornered, Marcus tried to think of the best way to phrase his thoughts. "Even if I didn't take care of myself, I think Neroon would make sure I did."

This admission surprised Stephen very much. Studying Marcus he saw a man on his way to recovery, but also someone in need of good friends. He always thought of Marcus as someone who couldn't have enough friends because he needed them so badly, if only Marcus would acknowledge and accept that truth. "Appears to me like you made a new friend."

Marcus looked Stephen in the eyes and saw compassion in them. "Yes, it definitely appears that way."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Lennier watched Neroon carefully while they were waiting for Delenn to begin the conversation. The young Minbari knew something had happened on Centauri Prime and Delenn had decided immediate action was required. The first time she had discussed this matter with him she had been distressed because she couldn't send Marcus on this mission. He would have been the best man for the job, but the fact that he was injured was reason enough to go one step further and ask Neroon.

Delenn knew that Neroon was desperate to prove his sincerity; to rightfully gain his place among them. Should Neroon complete this mission successfully she would give him a place among the Rangers. She wasn't sure yet how to do that, but felt certain she would think of a way. Perhaps he could act as some sort of tactical advisor.

"You asked me for an assignment, Neroon," Delenn started, "I have one for you. But I want you to realize the dangers involved. You aren't a Ranger, but a warrior. Should you accept this mission I will send Lennier along with you to act as a guide."

Baffled, Lennier looked at her. She hadn't told him that part! Having to spend the next weeks with Neroon was a frightful idea. But understanding was not required, only obedience. When directed, he would go. He always did...

"I offered you my services, Delenn, I am a man of honor, a warrior and will welcome any mission you want to send me on," Neroon declared vehemently. "Tell me where to go and what to do."

Pleased with his steadfast answer, Delenn cocked her head to study his eyes. Yes, he was being honest. "One more word of caution, Neroon, there might be a chance that you won't return from this mission. Once you arrive at your destination you will be on your own. Lennier will stay on the White Star to wait for your return. If you do not make it back at the agreed time, the White Star will leave without you." It was only fair to warn him that this could be considered a suicide mission. The odds of survival were small. She admired Neroon's courage to accept this chance to prove his worth. This last week must have been hard on him, but she was confident of his abilities.

"I understand, Delenn. There is no fear in my heart. When will we leave?" Neroon rose to his feet, once more feeling proud to be a Minbari warrior.

"Tonight."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Restless, Marcus found himself standing in front of Neroon's quarters. Only now did he realize where his feet had carried him. What was he doing here? It was near midnight. He had woken up an hour ago after having slept through the rest of the day. For some reason he had missed Neroon's company and wondered why the warrior had kept his distance today. There was always the possibility that the Minbari had come to his quarters during the day; he might have missed hearing the door chime while asleep.

Why was his pulse racing like this? He was nervous. The only time he could remember being this nervous was when Ivanova was close. But the Commander was nowhere in sight. Is it Neroon who's having this effect on me? Why am I reacting like this?

Telling himself to stop stalling, he pressed the door chime. One part of him hoped Neroon wasn't in, the other half was eager to talk to him.  These contrary feelings were definitely upsetting him.

"Enter."

The door opened and Marcus wavered about stepping inside. All of a sudden he felt a strange sensation in the pit of his stomach upon seeing Neroon sitting on the couch. Next to the warrior laid the book of poetry. Shaking himself from his stupor Marcus entered the room. Focusing his attention on something else he studied Neroon's quarters. "Your quarters are bigger than mine," Marcus chuckled, desperately trying to subdue the excitement washing through him. "Delenn must have threatened the Captain in order to get these."

Neroon immediately noticed the unease in Marcus' movements. The Ranger's face was slightly flushed and his voice trembled. Strange, he could have sworn there was a timid expression in Marcus' eyes. The Ranger remained standing in the middle of the room as if afraid to approach him. "Marcus, I did not expect to see you at this late hour. Is there something you want to talk to me about?"

"Actually..." The truth was that he didn't know why he had come here. A moment later, another truth left his lips without him fully realizing he was saying it aloud. "I missed your company, Neroon." Marcus couldn't believe he had really said that. The statement revealed too much of his current state of mind. Revealed what? Revealed you like his company? Revealed you like him? Just what is wrong with liking Neroon? Mentally cursing that inner voice, Marcus did his best to shut it up. The questions it had been asking were too dangerous to answer. He didn't want to think about it.

"I must confess I missed yours as well," Neroon said softly, rising to his feet. "I am sorry, I was busy today preparing for a mission."

"A mission? When will you leave? For how long?"

The concern was written plainly across his face, Neroon noticed. Apparently Marcus never expected him leaving this suddenly. "I offered Delenn my services," he reminded the Ranger.

 "Yes and I wondered about that." Taking one step closer he stood in front of the warrior. Was he imagining things, or could he actually feel Neroon's body heat? He was in the process of being overrun by feelings he couldn't label and it scared him. Why did Neroon's closeness affect him like this? "Why did you offer her your services, Neroon? Shouldn't you be on your way back to Minbar by now?" Marcus held his gaze, unwavering, but felt the blood rise to his face.

"Did no one tell you?" Neroon asked, amazement in his voice. "I have been exiled from Minbar."

"No... Why? Because you let Delenn live?" Flabbergasted, Marcus stared into hypnotic eyes. Did Neroon know what effect he was having on him? He had to know...

"No, because I wanted to kill her, Marcus." He watched the Ranger closely and noticed the hooded look in his eyes. Was Marcus struggling with something? Suddenly Neroon noticed the tension between; like a smothered fire that could burn brightly given an opportunity. Abruptly turning away, he lifted the booklet from the couch and stared at it, trying to reach a decision. He would let fate decide whether or not Marcus would discover the letter inside.

"Neroon? Did I say something wrong?" Seeing Neroon this lost, touched something deeply within him. During this last week he had come to value and rely on Neroon's strength.

"No, you did nothing to upset me," Neroon reassured him. "I just wish..." Facing Marcus, he drew in a deep breath. "I just wished there had been more time to get to know you, Marcus. I want to return this to you in case I do not survive this mission."

The booklet was pushed into his hands and Marcus was speechless for some moments. What was it Neroon had just admitted? No, I don't want to think about it; we're just friends. This can't... shouldn't be happening. Accepting the poetry book, his fingers briefly touched Neroon's and he felt the hotness of his skin. He couldn't help staring in to Neroon's dark eyes, wondering what was going on.

"You should go now, Marcus," Neroon said beneath his breath. "I need to get ready to leave." This tension was getting to him and he had no idea if Marcus felt it as well. He wasn't going to ask him though; didn't want to make such an embarrassing mistake, not while saying goodbye. Surprised Marcus didn't pull back his hand Neroon indulged himself in caressing those soft fingers just once, avoiding looking Marcus in the eyes. "Now leave me, Marcus, do not make this harder than it already is."

Swallowing hard, Marcus took one step back, breaking the intimate moment. He was confused as hell. No, that isn't true, I know what I'm feeling. I'm just scared to admit and act on it. "Neroon, promise me you will return."

"I cannot make that promise. You of all people should know how dangerous these missions are."

Yes, he knew, but he also knew Neroon was more likely to come back if he had a reason for doing so. His own reason had been Susan, but after that conversation they had had in Medlab he no longer fooled himself with the idea of winning her love. But what about Neroon? I'm fooling myself again. Look into his eyes. However, when he stared into Neroon's dark eyes, he was enthralled by the truth there. "You have to come back, Neroon. I want to get to know you as well."

"I will try, Marcus. I think I better leave now or else morning will dawn and we will still be standing here." Picking up his black cloak he draped it over his shoulders. Neroon was surprised at how hard it was to say goodbye to Marcus. He walked toward the doorway and looked back once more. The Ranger stood in the middle of the room and abandonment clung to him. Something told him that Marcus had been left alone to cope with things too many times before in his short life and that he had been damaged in the process. Being a man of impulse, he strode back and caught evasive green eyes with his gaze. "We are both warriors. If we are destined to meet again we will... My angel."

Before Marcus had a chance to reply, Neroon had left the room. Why did he have to call me angel? That bloody, irritating voice answered him, smugly. He doesn't know it hurts you to be called that. You never told him. Feeling absolutely worn out and drained, his gaze came to rest on the platform. It would beat sleeping in the chair... and he knew for sure Neroon wouldn't mind. Swaying a tad on his feet from fatigue he rested his body on the tilted bed. What had Neroon done to him? The thought, --the possibility-- of Neroon failing to return from this mission was making him queasy very quickly.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Where is that pain in the ass? After all the trouble I went through to get him some decent quarters and a proper bed, he'd better show up." Garibaldi's tone wavered between frustration and amusement. Delenn and Stephen had asked him to provide Marcus with some larger and better equipped quarters. It had been one hell of a job to find a suitable place, but he was proud he had managed to get Cole some quarters with a real water shower. There was only one problem; Marcus was missing.

"Michael, he has to be somewhere. There's no way he can get far, not with those broken ribs of his," Franklin replied, seeing the grin on the Chief's face. Michael might not show it, but he liked harassing the Ranger.

"And were are we going to start searching for him? The only thing we know for certain is that he isn't in his old quarters," Garibaldi mused aloud.

"I think I know where you can find him. Where are Neroon's quarters?"

"You can't be serious, Stephen. Neroon tried to kill him! What the hell would Marcus be doing there?" Garibaldi accessed the security files to see where the warrior's guest-quarters were situated.

"Just call it an educated guess, " Stephen said teasingly. Marcus' admission earlier on had told him there was something going on between him and the Minbari. It had been obvious that the Ranger didn't want to discuss the matter.

"All right, I'm going to check the Minbari's quarters first. I bet you 50 credits he won't be there."

"That's fine with me," Stephen said, accepting the bet without reservations; he was going to win anyway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marcus woke because someone was repeatedly pressing the door chime. It took him a moment before he realized where he was; he'd fallen asleep in Neroon's quarters. He didn't want to get up from the sleeping platform, but the door chime continued to annoy him. Not sure whether he should answer it, he managed to get to his feet. These were Neroon's quarters, it might be odd if he was found here.

"Marcus? If you're in there, open that door!"

Recognizing Garibaldi's voice, Marcus cringed. A verbal sparring with the Chief wasn't something to look forward to. He figured it would be better to give in. Garibaldi surely had solid reasons to assume he was in here and he didn't want to create a disturbance. "Computer, open doors," he instructed and watched how  Garibaldi strode inside. Registering his grin, he knew he was in trouble; not sure why though.

"Marcus? What are you doing here?" Garibaldi asked, seeing the still sleep-filled eyes.

"Respectfully Mr. Garibaldi, I don't think that's any of your business," Marcus snapped, surprised at his own sharp tone.

"Hey, calm down, Cole. " the Chief whispered, wondering why Marcus was this defensive. Well, he's been through a lot lately, he thought and tried once more. "Stephen asked me to find you. He's rather concerned, you know." He was relieved when Marcus didn't snarl back at him. Probably had too much stress lately, he reasoned and studied Marcus who looked skinny and fatigued.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you," Marcus apologized; realizing how overly emotional his reaction had been to a mere logical question.

"It's okay, Marcus. Why don't you let me buy you breakfast and we'll start all over again?" Garibaldi offered, trying to gauge Marcus' reaction.

"Breakfast?" Marcus muttered, feeling embarrassed. "Sounds great."

Michael nodded once and was about to leave the room when he saw Marcus pick up a book and slip it into his pockets.

Marcus caught his inquisitive gaze and carefully shrugged his shoulders. " I lent it to Neroon."

Realizing it was none of his business any way the Chief waited for Marcus to catch up to him. "So, how are you feeling, Marcus? Stephen told me about your broken ribs." He knew his concern must appear strange to Marcus. Normally he avoided the Ranger, irritated with his ability to babble without end.

"I'm healing," Marcus replied, wondering why Garibaldi had invited him to have breakfast with him. One could hardly call them friends.

"Neroon left?" Michael asked, switching topics.

"Yes."

"I don't like him," Garibaldi said, trying to get a reaction out of Marcus.

Marcus remained silent for a moment, not sure what to say to that statement. "Everyone's entitled to have an opinion, Mr. Garibaldi, If you don't like him that's your decision."

Damn, he knows what I'm trying to do. I need a different approach. Garibaldi changed tactics. "You can call me Michael," he said friendly, but Marcus didn't react the way he wanted.

"All right... Michael," Marcus replied smugly. He knew what the Chief was up to, but wasn't going to give him any information.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

"I'm stuffed." Marcus emptied his mug of caff. He had noticed the surprised expression on Garibaldi's face when he'd opted for that drink instead of his usual tea. "Tell me... Michael, why did you offer to buy me breakfast?" he asked, closely observing the other man.

"Thought you'd be hungry and Stephen told me you were too lazy to get foodstuff to fill your empty fridge." Michael chuckled, not hiding the smirk on his face.

Marcus found himself returning that smirk. The Chief proved to be rather entertaining company after all; something he'd never expected. "I better get back to my quarters now." He slowly got to his feet. His ribs protested immediately, but he ignored the ache. He definitely needed to clean himself up and change his clothing. It was a pity he only had access to a vibe-shower; he would never get used to them.

"Marcus, you should go to green 4 first." Garibaldi grinned.

"Why?" Green was the diplomatic section where Delenn had her quarters.

"Because I was given orders to relocate your quarters," Michael stated triumphantly, enjoying seeing a bewildered look on the Ranger's face.

"Relocate my quarters? Who gave that order?"

"It was a combined effort by Stephen and Delenn. The doc wants you to have a comfortable bed and I think Delenn wants to thank you for protecting her," he mused aloud, watching the Ranger's baffled expression. This is fun! I actually managed to shut him up!

Straightening out his cloak in an effort to compose himself, the poetry book slipped from his pocket. It fell onto the floor with a loud thud. Bending down to pick it up, he froze as his ribs made it perfectly clear that they didn't like him moving around in this way. Leaning against the wall for support he tried to catch his breath and wondered how long it would take for his ribs to heal properly. He knew that moving about wasn't going to speed up that process. Doctor Hobbs had only let him go because he had promised to rest.

"Marcus? I'll get it for you." Garibaldi handed him the book. The Ranger had turned ghastly pale the moment he had tried to bend down. Michael knew Marcus was a long way from being healed and decided to walk him to his quarters. Stephen would be mad at him should anything happen to Marcus on his way home.

"Thank you, Michael," Marcus muttered between clenched teeth, trying to hide his pain. Cautiously walking towards the exit he suddenly heard Garibaldi call him back.

"Wait for me, Cole!" Quickly catching up with the slowly walking Ranger, he looked at the letter which had fallen out of the booklet. Marcus' name was written on the envelope. "Here, you lost this," he said, handing it to Marcus while opening the door.

Curious, Marcus accepted the letter, wondering who had placed it in the book. Neroon, who else? But why would he write me a letter?

"I'll walk you home."

"That won't be necessary, Michael." Marcus declined, but realized the Chief wasn't going to accept no for an answer. As they made their way through the bowels of the space station the letter burned his fingers. If only he were alone; no way he was going to read it in Michael's presence. Finally arriving at his new quarters Marcus quickly slipped the letter into his sleeve, hoping Michael had forgotten about it.

"You'll have to change the access code according to your wishes, Marcus," the Chief said, while typing in Roadrunner.

"I will, " Marcus replied, determined to change that access code as quickly as possible. As the door opened he stared at this new rooms. "Michael? You must have made a mistake; these can't be my new quarters."

"No mistake, Marcus. Enjoy the water shower," Garibaldi quipped.

"Michael?" Turning around he noticed the Chief had vanished. This can't be really happening. He was firmly convinced Garibaldi had mixed up something. A water shower? He realized Michael had told him the truth as he entered the bathroom. Returning to the living area he sat down on the couch which was so much more comfortable than his old chair, now placed in a corner of the room. He saw several of his personal belongings in the room. Apparently all his stuff had been moved while he had been asleep in Neroon's quarters.

Stepping into the separate bedroom,  he collapsed onto the soft bed and rolled himself into the comforter not bothering to undress. Even back on Arisia 3 he hadn't had such large quarters and a smile appeared on his face. His life was changing quickly and seemed to have taken a turn for the better. Something stabbed his wrist and he remembered Neroon's letter.

Pushing the pillow underneath his neck, he uncovered the piece of valuable old paper and unfolded it. His eyes scanned the bottom of the letter and immediately saw his signature; it was Neroon's. The warrior's handwriting was elegant. Minbari words had been crossed out and had been replaced with Standard. It was a strange mixture of Standard and alien writing. Taking a deep breath, Marcus began to decipher the letter.

Marcus,

For the first time in my life I realize I am a Haranatal coward after all. I should have told you I'm attracted to you, but I didn't have the courage to confront you directly. You asked me why I let you live; didn't kill you when you were defenseless. I told you I was stopped the moment you invoked Valen's name. That was a half-truth.

The truth is that I fell in love with you. I couldn't kill you for I would have murdered my own feelings at that moment. Your Latorna compassion touched my soul.

You must be wondering by now, why I placed this letter in the booklet. We both know there is a fair chance I won't return from this mission, but should I come back alive I want you to know I will wait for your answer till you are ready to give it to me. I need to know if this feeling is mutual. If not, please burn this letter and pretend you never received it.

Neroon

Stunned, he dropped the letter onto the comforter which he had wrapped around himself. Suddenly everything fell into place; the vigil, the dinner invitation, that intimate moment in the Minbari's quarters. He had felt the attraction then, but had refused to acknowledge it. And now Neroon was gone.

Pounding the pillow next to him, his anger rose and it was directed at himself. Somebody showed an romantic interest in him and what did he do? Act like he was ignorant of Neroon's feelings. Another truth settled in, He wants me; Neroon really wants me, like I wanted Ivanova. And what was he going to do about it? Neroon would probably die on this mission and he would spend the rest of his life wondering what could have been.

Throwing the comforter onto the floor he slipped the letter back into his sleeve. All of a sudden these quarters seemed awfully small and he felt trapped. Storming out of his rooms he heard the door close behind him.

Moments later he was staring at a glass of Tequila, seated in the back of a sleazy bar. Studying the liquid he realized he had come here with every intention of getting drunk. Doctor Hobbs would be mad should she ever find out that he hadn't been resting, but right now he couldn't deal with reality. All he wanted was to escape that reality and find some decent amount of peace.

Grabbing the glass he drowned it in one go and coughed violently the moment the alcohol hit his stomach. It tasted awful, but he didn't care. Ordering more, he told the bartender to leave the bottle on his table.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Chief? I thought you told me that Marcus was injured?" Zack Allen said, using his hand communicator to address Garibaldi.

Michael looked up from his files and wondered why Zack was asking that particular question. Bringing his own hand communicator closer to his mouth he replied, "Yeah, he has some broken ribs, why?"

"Because he's sitting here at Cassie's and looks pretty drunk to me," Zack explained.

"Keep him there, Zack," Michael instructed. "I'm on my way. If anything happens, call Medlab at once." They'll kill him when they find out he's drunk. He wondered who would be more mad, Lillian or Stephen.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Marcus? What are you doing here?" Michael straddled the chair opposite of the drunk Ranger. I sure hope he isn't on any kind of medication or I'll have to take him to Medlab anyway. Studying Marcus, he noticed the lost look in the Ranger's eyes and knew he was running away from something. Taking hold of the half-empty bottle of Tequila he placed it on the floor underneath the table. Marcus wasn't a drinker and he wondered what had happened since he had left the Ranger in his new quarters an hour ago.

"Ah, Mr. Garibaldi," Marcus exclaimed in loud tone, not noticing the stares he attracted. "You should stop following me around, you know." He chuckled, trying to find the closest exit by scanning the pub. He didn't want to talk to Garibaldi; he didn't want to talk to anyone. Except for Neroon perhaps, but that was impossible. Seeing the Chief grab the bottle and place it out of his reach he leaned back and tried to focus his eyes.

"Why do you want to get drunk, Marcus? I've never known you to drink alcohol."  Marcus' unfocused stare told him that the Ranger had drunk more than enough.

"Why, oh why?" Marcus called out loudly, not giving a damn what the other customers thought about him. The alcohol had made him light-headed and giddy, almost chipper, although in reality he wanted nothing more than to cry and punish himself for his stupidity. Neroon was gone... out of reach. Just like that bottle of Tequila, Marcus thought dismayed.

"I'm taking you home and you better pray we won't run into Stephen," Garibaldi said softly. "Getting drunk won't solve your problems, Marcus."

Leaning in closer, Marcus beckoned Garibaldi to do the same thing, then whispered into the Chief's ear, "I have --never-- been drunk before, Mr. Garibaldi. This is the first time I did." He burped loudly and looked blankly at Michael. "Never knew the stuff tasted this bad, had to tell myself not to stop," he continued smugly, "And so I did. Drunk at last!"

Garibaldi was about to pull Marcus out of his chair when the Ranger grabbed his collar and forced him to continue to listen. The Chief gulped, then gave in to the drunk Ranger.

"In my entire life I've never made love, not once, Mr. Garibaldi, never felt passion," Marcus confessed in broken tone. "And I just passed up my only chance of getting laid after 36 years of wait," Marcus said in a conspiring tone like spies were eavesdropping on him.

"Oh, boy," Michael mumbled, realizing Marcus was telling him he was a virgin. He had to admit he had never seen Marcus with someone. Well, the Ranger had been trying to get through to Susan, but he knew Ivanova was unreachable. "No more alcohol for you, Marcus." He hauled the Ranger to his feet. "I'm going to walk, hell carry, you home. You'll thank me in the morning when you realize I saved you quite some embarrassment." He had a firm hold on Marcus, but had forgotten about the Ranger's brittle ribs. A moan told him he was applying too much pressure on Marcus' injuries and he moved his arms.

"Now, mister Garibaldi...." In an attempt to stop the Chief from carrying him out of the bar, he tried to hold onto the counter for support and stuck out his tongue.

Garibaldi sighed, wondering what he had done to deserve this. "Don't act that childish Marcus." Marcus was snickering with laughter, but he noticed the anguish in Marcus' glazed eyes.

"Michael, why are you named after a Californian goldfish?"

"Just shut up, Marcus. You really are a pain in the ass." He was losing his patience and suddenly realized that Marcus was taunting him on purpose, trying to make him leave so he could return to his drink. "I'm going to take you home Marcus, forget about returning to Cassie's and emptying that bottle."

"Bugger," Marcus muttered silently as Garibaldi shoved him into the core tube. Thankfully no one else was inside. "I just made a complete ass of myself." He avoided looking at the Chief. One of Garibaldi's hands was pressed against his chest, pinning him to the wall.

"At least you realize now that you should go home. Geez, Marcus, you're going to have one hell of a hangover when you wake up. It's a good thing I stashed some caff into your cupboard earlier." Looking at the Ranger, Michael watched Marcus' eyes close. Now I have to carry him home, he thought and tried to scoop Marcus up in his arms. Well, he would be able to cover the distance to the Ranger's new quarters.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Glad he'd encountered no one he knew, Michael pushed the Ranger onto his bed and covered him with the comforter, curious to find out what had caused Marcus to lose control like he had.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Michael had made himself comfortable on the sofa while watching some cartoons on the media wall, playing them at low volume. Perhaps he was being overly cautious, but leaving Marcus alone when intoxicated definitely seemed a bad move. If Marcus was as inexperienced with alcohol as he claimed he was, it would be better someone was around the moment he woke. Knowing from personal experience what alcohol could do to somebody, he wanted to stay close to Marcus. He'd told Zack were to find him in case he was needed.

Checking the time, he realized that the Ranger had been asleep for two hours now. There was no way of knowing when Marcus would wake up. Strolling over to the kitchen unit he boiled some water and made some caff. Waiting for it to cool down he placed it on the table and walked into the bedroom to check on the Ranger.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hell, this is hell... No, this is even worse than hell. The moment he tried to open his eyes everything turned blurry and the room began to spin at light speed. I'll never drink Tequila, no make that alcohol, again. He moaned and tried to roll onto his other side. A moment later he realized it had been a bad move. Feeling sick, he clutched the comforter with both hands. His head felt like it had been banged against a wall by a very angry Zarg.

"Having a headache, Cole?" Garibaldi whispered softly while approaching the bed. A greenish color appeared on the Ranger's face and Michael knew Marcus was feeling sick. "Don't move around too much Marcus, try to lie still. I do think you need to drink some water though. It'll help your body deal with the alcohol."

"Don't... shout... Michael." Marcus wished he'd never touched that evil brew. "Never...again," he muttered, fighting the urge to ask Garibaldi to end his misery by putting a PPG to his head and pull the bloody trigger. He didn't even notice Michael leave the bedroom again. A bed. I'm so glad I've got a bed, would hate to have to sleep in the chair right now.

Carrying a bottle of water into the bedroom, Michael placed a glass on the night stand and filled it. The more Marcus drank, the sooner the alcohol would leave his body. Slipping a hand underneath Marcus' neck, he placed the glass at the ranger's lips. Wished someone had done this for me when I needed help. "Now drink this slowly, Marcus and don't spill it on your shirt. I'm not going to change your clothing. That's where I draw the line." It was a good thing Marcus' eyes were closed so he couldn't see that smirk.

Feeling the cold water run down through his throat, Marcus almost choked as he forgot to swallow. Thirsty, he emptied the glass. Finally opening his eyes he stared at Garibaldi's face and wondered why the Chief was still here.

"You shouldn't drink that much alcohol, Marcus. You're not used to it. If you had emptied that entire bottle you would be in Medlab now. Drinking that amount of alcohol can kill you. Trust me, I know what I'm talking about."

"Don't worry... about it... I'll never drink... alcohol... again. I learnt my... lesson today."

"I hope you're serious, Marcus. Don't ever forget how you're feeling right now." Michael made Marcus drink another glass of water.

"Enough," The water was making him want to throw up.

"All right, now try to get some more sleep. Want me to stay?"

"I'm sure you got things to attend to," Marcus started, then quickly covered his mouth with his hands.

Realizing the ranger was going to throw up Garibaldi hauled him to his feet and lead him into the bathroom. Marcus trembled violently and Michael steadied him to make sure he wouldn't fall. While pushing him gently towards the sink, he couldn't remember just how many times he had done the same thing after drinking himself to oblivion. He realized he had a chance here to help Marcus and he was going to see this through. Gently stroking the dark hair out of Marcus' face he wrapped an arm around the Ranger's waist. "It's going to be all right, Marcus. Don't fight it."

"Easy for... you to say." Marcus couldn't hold back any longer and emptied his stomach.

Rubbing the Ranger's back and neck softly Michael made sure Marcus wasn't choking on his own vomit. Eventually, the heaving stopped and he supported Marcus while making their way back to the bed.

Lying down at last, Marcus couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this bad. He'd rather allow himself to be beaten up again; it hurt a lot less. Utterly embarrassed, he watched Garibaldi pull up the comforter to make sure he was warm. If it hadn't been for the Chief he would had thrown up right here in the bed.

"I take it you'd rather have me stay in case something like that happens again?"

"Yes, please," Marcus whispered, hating the foul taste in his mouth. Why was Garibaldi this concerned? Why look after a drunk?

"I'll be right back," Garibaldi told the now sweat covered ranger as he retreated into the kitchen. Pouring some OJ into a glass he realized how lucky Marcus was to have had his fridge filled on Ddoctor's orders earlier today. After he drenched a towel in cold water he returned to the bedroom.

Desperately trying to focus his eyes, Marcus felt relieved to see Michael sit down on the bed again. He was thankful for Garibaldi's care. Not many people would do this for 'a pain in the ass'. "You're a good friend, Michael, thanks."

"You're welcome," Garibaldi replied softly. Handing Marcus the OJ, he saw his thankful expression. Wiping the sweat off the Ranger's brow with the damp towel he caught the soft moan leaving Marcus' lips. Placing the now empty glass on the night stand he watched Marcus struggle to stay awake. "You need to sleep, Marcus. It's okay to let go."

Hearing those words the Ranger gave into the comfort of sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Four hours later Marcus woke again and this time the headache had been reduced to bearable proportions. Shifting in the bed he was ashamed of his behavior at Cassie's. Insulting Garibaldi hadn't been bad enough; he'd made a complete ass of himself! Pushing back the comforter he realized he was still fully clothed and he noticed the stench of alcohol on them. Bugger, what had possessed him to lose control like that? Neroon. His sadness returned.

"You should eat something, Cole. I prepared lunch." Michael stared at the dishevelled Ranger and saw the shock in his green eyes upon realizing he was still here.

"Michael? I need to apologize to you for the way I acted," Marcus said looking him in the eyes.

"Forget about it, now get into the kitchen and eat something. Zack called me in. Some big shot is going to arrive shortly and I'm needed to handle security," he informed Marcus who had managed to get to his feet.

"Yes sir," Marcus said smugly and saluted. "Shouldn't have done that," he whispered as the headache suddenly grew worse.

"Come on." Michael returned to the kitchen.

Marcus decided to visit the bathroom first. Remembering he had spilled his guts in here he expected to walk right into a mess, but the sink was spotless. Did he clean up after me? Stepping into the kitchen he felt embarrassed for his actions. Michael had prepared some sandwiches and had even made some caff.

Garibaldi noticed Marcus' timidity and knew he was ashamed for getting drunk. "Marcus, sometimes we do things we regret later on. That's not necessarily a bad thing," he tried to brighten the Ranger's mood, "as long as you learn the lesson that goes with the experience."

"I learned that lesson, I really did," Marcus admitted. Clutching his head in his hands he finally sat down.

"So why did you do it?" Garibaldi tried to find out if Marcus wanted to talk.

"That's what he said," Marcus whispered, catapulted back into that dark tunnel in Down Below.

"He?" Garibaldi was relieved that Marcus appeared willing to address the issue.

"Why do it? That's what Neroon said after he defeated me," Marcus explained, not sure he wanted to talk about the Minbari to Garibaldi. After all, the Chief had told him he didn't like Neroon.

"This is all because of Neroon?" Handing Marcus a mug filled with caff he waited for the Ranger to continue.

"You don't like him... I do," Marcus whispered crestfallen.

"You like him?" Garibaldi said, pondering Marcus' hesitant answer. A moment later he understood the expression in the Ranger's eyes. "You've been acting like a love-sick teenager because you're attracted to him?" Michael paused, remembering something else Marcus had blurred out while being drunk."And you're afraid you passed up your only chance of getting laid, as you so eloquently phrased it yourself by Neroon?" He knew he'd guessed the truth when Marcus blushed deeply.

"I hoped I hadn't said that aloud. " Marcus blushed to the roots of his hair. The alcohol had made him say things which should have remained a secret.

"Marcus? Did you tell him about your feelings?"

"Delenn sent him on a mission. I'm not even sure he's ever going to return. Neroon might as well be dead now." Sipping his caff, he stared into the black liquid. He didn't want to discuss this with Garibaldi.

"I'm sure he'll come back, just to irritate the hell out of me," the Chief said, trying to reassure Marcus.

"You don't know how dangerous these missions are, Michael," Marcus muttered as he took a bite out of a sandwich, desperately trying to focus his attention on something else in order to forget about Neroon.

"I've been sent on missions as well, Marcus and I'm still alive."

"Michael, you can't compare ranger missions to Earthforce assignments. I know the difference." Marcus regretted his words at once.

"Marcus, you can only say that if you've been in Earthforce." Garibaldi finally realized what Marcus had involuntarily revealed to him. "Were you?"

"Earthforce Intelligence," Marcus confessed, suddenly very interested in studying his sandwich.

"That explains a lot. Had my suspicions for some time now, never knew for certain though." Garibaldi was smart enough to see Marcus didn't want to talk about his days in Earthforce and let it be. The Ranger's admission about Neroon though had surprised the hell out of him. Wanting to follow up on that subject he cursed as his hand communicator stopped him. "Garibaldi go."

"Chief? It's me, Zack. We need you in Station house. It's urgent."

"I'm on my way, Zack. Garibaldi out."

"You'd better go now, Michael. Thanks for caring. I needed to talk to someone..." Marcus said, wanting nothing more than to return to bed and sleep off the last effects of alcohol.

"All right." Garibaldi got to his feet and slipped into his jacket. "You're sure you'll be fine? Just remember you can talk to me if you want to."

"I know," Marcus smiled. It appeared he'd made another friend today; a very unlikely one though. After watching Garibaldi leave his quarters, Marcus slowly made his way back to the bed. He could only hope Michael wasn't going to tell anyone about the conversation they'd had. Wishful thinking.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Commander Ivanova recalled Garibaldi's words as the Chief had asked her to check on Marcus after her shift. "Susan, our Ranger is heartbroken and needs to talk to someone. You know I'm no good at this psychological stuff." His words had worried her though. Like I'm good at these things, she thought dismayed. It was too late now to get cold feet; she'd already pressed his door chime. Heartbroken? I'm the one to blame anyway. I told him he couldn't compete with Talia. I guess Michael is right; I created this mess.

The door slid open and she peeked inside. Garibaldi had told her Marcus had been drinking hours earlier. She had never seen him drink alcohol; only tea. Well, these quarters were definitely an improvement. She'd done her best to get him some decent ones when it became apparent he was going to stay on Babylon 5, but she knew they had been too small.

"Marcus?"

"I'm in the bathroom. Be right with you."

Looking around, she noticed the table was still set. Sandwiches, and she was hungry. Marcus surely wouldn't mind if she ate one.

Watching her, Marcus still felt a stabbing pain in his heart. She was beautiful and he loved teasing her, but he now knew for certain he had no chance with her. "Susan, I must admit I didn't expect you."

"I wanted to see your new quarters and... I think we need to talk."

Walking toward the sofa he studied her expression; she was uncomfortable. Marcus sat down and sighed. The painkiller he'd taken some minutes ago to fight his headache was only now unfolding its effect; he knew he needed a clear head for this conversation. Apparently Susan was convinced they needed to talk. About what though?

Ivanova observed him closely and could actually smell the stench of alcohol that still clung to him. She tried reading his eyes, but his walls were just as high as hers. In that aspect they were perfectly matched. This conversation would only work if both of them took down their defenses. That idea scared her. She realized she would have to take the first step. "Michael asked me to talk to you. He told me you got drunk because you were hurt; heartbroken he called it. I know I hurt you when I told you I still loved Talia."

Marcus shifted on the sofa trying to get some pressure off his ribs. She was sitting on the other end of the couch and suddenly he found himself comparing her to Neroon. They had one thing in common; their strength. No matter what would happen they'd fight and go on. Why had Michael asked her to visit him? Susan had no part in this; this was between him and Neroon. "Susan I got drunk for the first time in my life and had the misfortune to run into Mr. Garibaldi. The reason why I wanted to get drunk has nothing to do with you."

"It hasn't?" Susan was confused. If he wasn't hurting because she'd rejected him, why did he get drunk? This annoying Ranger had always kept his secrets from her, but not this time. She was going to make him talk to her.

"No, Susan. It has nothing to do with you. Well, I'm not going to sit here and tell you your rejection didn't hurt, but I can deal with that." Marcus knew darn well she wouldn't believe him if he told her he hadn't been hurt that day in Medlab.

"So what is it that you can't deal with?" Susan knew he never expected that question as his eyes grew big.

Is she really going to push this? Bugger, looks like she's determined to find out. That thought worried him and he began to stall so he wouldn't have to answer that question. "Where are my manners? I didn't even offer you something to drink I can make some caff if you want to. Don't think I have vodka..." Marcus was about to get to his feet when Susan placed a hand on his shoulder. There was nothing else he could do except staying seated.

"Marcus, it's not good to keep everything inside, I know. You can trust me."

Wavering, he pulled Neroon's letter from his sleeve and placed it in the palm of her hand. "I'll make us some caff while you read that letter."

Susan allowed him to get up and opened the letter. With every word she read, she realized Marcus wasn't heartbroken because of her. She read the letter for a second time and waited for him to return.

"You read it?" He placed the mugs on the table and looked at her. There was an odd expression in her eyes; one he couldn't label.

"Yes, but I never knew Neroon was attracted to you. Marcus, what are your feelings for him?" Studying him, she saw regret in his eyes.

"I respect him. After I was released from Medlab we spent some time together."

"And?"

"I'm attracted to him as well, but I never knew he was interested in me. Neroon never told me... but wrote me that letter instead."

Susan returned it to him and sipped from her caff. "What's the problem then? "

"The problem is that I have no idea what he wants out of a relationship... A relationship with a human, Susan." Maintaining eye contact he told her what really bothered him. "Even exiled, he's still Warrior Caste. I know a lot about Minbari, but nothing about their mating rituals. What if Neroon's ideas concerning a relationship differ greatly from mine? I have no idea if he's possessive or wants to dominate a relationship."

"Why don't you ask him, Marcus?"

"Because Delenn sent him on some sort of mission. I'm not even sure he'll come back." Leaning back into the softness of the couch Marcus realized she did care for him.

"I'm sorry, Marcus. I didn't know that." She placed the now empty mug back onto the table. The only thing she could do was give him her honest opinion concerning Neroon and his dilemma. "Why don't you give Neroon a chance? I don't know him that well, but that's irrelevant. Being in love is a wonderful feeling, Marcus. Why don't you enjoy it?"

Smiling weakly Marcus realized she was right. "In love? Guess that's what I am. Never thought I would fall in love with a Minbari warrior."

"I never thought I would fall in love with a telepath, Marcus. Yet I did." Susan returned the smile. Perhaps we're not that different after all.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Michael Garibaldi wasn't pleased when he learnt of the identity of their secretive visitor. Alfred Bester visiting the station meant trouble. The grin on the Psi Cop's face had made him momentarily shudder and he had felt glad when the door of the Captain's office had closed behind Bester. Michael wondered what had made Bester leave the safety of Psi Corps' headquarters to come here. Sheridan had given him strict orders to make sure no one else knew about Bester' presence on the station and he didn't like it one bit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 "Mr. Bester, I hope I'm not wasting my time here." John Sheridan looked at him and wondered why Bester was out of uniform. Bester no longer looked like the Psi Cop he'd come to know. The only familiar thing were his gloves.

Delenn, who was sitting opposite Bester, felt rather uncomfortable. John had told her about this Psi Cop; that he didn't trust Bester for very good reasons. Trying hard not to be biased she waited for someone to start the conversation.

Bester sensed their unease, distrust, and realized he'd have to do his best to convince them of the earnest of this mission. Placing the file on Sheridan's desk he got to his feet and walked over to the media wall. "Some days ago this report was delivered to me by some very loyal telepaths... They 're dead now. This report reveals some very disturbing facts, Captain, Ambassador."

Sheridan opened the file and quickly scanned its content. His face became pale once he'd arrived at the last page. He handed it over to Delenn who looked alert upon seeing his facial expression.

"Within Psi Corps, a very influential wing in favor of cooperating with the Shadows wants to use their alien strength to the Corps' own advantages," Bester said, slowly pacing the room. "You should know by now I'm not one of them, Caim however is. He's the leader of a special division called the Fallen Angels. It's their task to find ways to use the Shadows' weaknesses against themselves to ensure the Corps will be able to claim victory at the end of this war."

"Their weaknesses?" Sheridan looked at Bester and saw a truly troubled man. He'd never before seen the Psi Cop this concerned.

"Yes. We know that the Shadows are defenseless against telepaths. That's why the Shadows requested a special series of tests and experiments; code named operation Hybrid." Bester turned around and looked them in the eyes. They had to understand the seriousness of the situation at hand. "Before I left headquarters I managed to gain possession of this data crystal. It's part of Caim's personal logs." Inserting the crystal into the player he hoped this material would be convincing enough.

After having read the report Delenn's brow became furrowed. The report mentioned the experiments Bester had already hinted at. The media wall showed them a lab like environment. In the middle of the sterile room, an exam table had been placed. On that table, restrained at hands and feet, was a human male. Terror filled his eyes and Delenn felt chilly as Bester spoke once more.

"This is Roger Waxton, a rogue telepath. He was caught some weeks ago by Caim's blood hounds. His arrest was never mentioned in Caim's logs, which he has to hand over to his superiors once a week. Waxton was rated P9 before he managed to escape a rehabilitation center," Bester explained and watched in mute fascination how Sheridan's and Delenn's eyes widened upon seeing a Shadow creature enter the room with another Psi Cop.

"Where did this take place?" Sheridan asked.

"Centauri Prime; a powerful ally of the Shadows. Watch carefully now and you'll understand why it's imperative we need to act as quickly as possible. The Psi Cop at the Shadow's side is Caim, the telepath I just told you about."

Sheridan nodded and stared in anger at the scene in front of him. Caim had placed his hands on the rogue's head. The Shadow slid closer and while moving forwards seemed to lay itself on top of the rogue's body. A swirling mass of black energy and human form seemed to grow into one new form. The rogue telepath was screaming in obvious pain. Caim, however had a delighted smile on his face.

"Captain, Ambassador, Caim is trying to mold the rogue's mind in a way that it will be able to absorb the Shadow's mind. If he's successful, this rogue's body and mind will both be taken over by the Shadow." Bester shuddered. He'd seen this recording before.

"A Shadow-telepath?" Delenn asked in abhorrence.

"Yes, we would lose the one advantage we have," Bester replied. " If the Shadows are capable of blocking telepaths, all of us, mundane or telepath, will be easily crushed."

"But why is the Corps so willing to contribute to its own demise?" Delenn averted her eyes the moment the rogue's body seemed to explode, leaving blood stains all over the once white room.

"His head exploded?" Sheridan whispered in bewilderment.

"The human brain, even that of a high-rated telepath, isn't yet capable of linking with a Shadow," Bester explained.

Delenn opened her eyes and watched Caim and the Shadow leave the lab-room; the grin on the Psi Cop's face was gone now and frustration showed clearly.

The recording stopped and Bester placed the crystal back into his pocket. "Maybe now you'll understand why I need your help in stopping these tests. If Caim succeeds, he'll achieve a terrible power." Bester sat down again. He'd tried his best. The decision was up to them now.

Delenn was the first to speak, still shaken from the tragic death she'd witnessed. "I agree, Mr. Bester. This needs to stop. An army of Shadow telepaths is not desirable." Looking Bester in his eyes, she repeated her still unanswered question. "Tell me, why does the Corps allow for these tests to happen? Surely they must know they are empowering an future enemy?"

"Ambassador, Caim has authorization to carry them out. The Corps plans to back stab the Shadows and use that potential for their own good."

"There's something I still don't understand," Sheridan said, studying the Psi Cop very carefully. "Why are you opposed to these tests?"

"They're sacrificing telepaths, Captain," Bester's tone was tense and his eyes revealed nothing. "Rogues and Blips are being sacrificed by the hundreds. Caim doesn't care for them; they're just dispensable guinea pigs."

"And you care for them?" Sheridan didn't know what to think of this situation. Bester seemed sincere and he'd never before seen him out of uniform.

"Yes, I do. They're my people and don't deserve to be... terminated like this. Caim has to be stopped. I'm determined to stop him, but it'll be easier to achieve that goal with your cooperation, Captain."

"You really want to tell us that you're going to act against your own people?" Sheridan's distrust was still evident on his face.

"Caim and his Fallen Angels aren't my people, Captain. They're killers." Bester repressed a sigh; he was wasting precious time while talking to them. "Who knows how many telepaths died during this conversation; how many more will have to die before you realize this has to stop?"

Delenn nodded. She understood his reasons. "But why come here and tell us?"

"I need your help, Ambassador. I can't travel to Centauri Prime without being noticed. The Rangers..."

"The Rangers?" Sheridan interrupted.

"Yes, the Rangers have their ways to... make people invisible as long as needed." Bester tried to gauge Delenn's reaction.

"I'll provide a diversion once we arrive at the base so we'll have easy access to the lab and files. They need to be destroyed," Bester said in an authoritative voice.

Sheridan and Delenn exchanged looks; they knew they had to take action. The Ambassador fixed her gaze on the Psi Cop and hoped they'd taken the right decision. "What do you want of us?"

"Full cooperation from the Rangers and Marcus Cole as my liaison."

"Marcus?" Delenn didn't expect that demand. The Ranger was still injured, recovering from broken ribs. He wasn't ready yet to be sent on a mission. "Mr. Bester, surely there's another Ranger who can accompany you? Marcus Cole is injured."

Bester managed to hide his disappointment. "There's a reason why I want Marcus Cole to accompany me, Ambassador. Are his wounds too severe to leave the station?"

"No, they are not, but..." Delenn was at a loss.

"Why Marcus?" The Captain rose from his chair, equally inclined to refuse Bester's request.

"As I said before, I have my reasons." Not willing to give an explanation, Bester waited for an answer. "Why don't we let Mr. Cole decide?"

Although sensing Delenn's reluctance, Sheridan knew Marcus would be the right man for the job, but her concerned expression warned him to proceed carefully. "Delenn, I think Bester has a valid point there. Why don't we ask Marcus whether he thinks he's up to it or not?"

The Ambassador didn't like this proposal. She knew Marcus would never refuse a mission, but she had no choice; this situation called for immediate and perhaps even drastic measures.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marcus's hand rested on the collapsed pike underneath his long cloak; once more it was in his possession. Two days had past since he'd tried to drown his worries in Tequila. He'd used those two days to search his own feelings. Doctor Hobbs had been pleased to find that he'd rested as promised. Stephen had also dropped by. For the first time in years Marcus had actually cooked dinner and enjoyed doing it. Stephen had even complimented him on his cooking.

Finally certain of his feelings he'd made a decision concerning Neroon's letter. Although he was still worried that the warrior wouldn't survive the mission, a tiny shimmer of hope warmed his heart. Neroon was strong. And he has a reason to return to the station; --I-- am that reason. I can't believe it.

Running a hand through his hair he wondered why Delenn had called him to the Captain's office this unexpectedly. Officially he was still off-duty for at least two more weeks. He'd begged Stephen to have mercy on him and to reduce the 'confinement' to quarters to one week instead of two, but Franklin had smugly told him he couldn't do that because the Ranger was Doctor Hobb's patient. In the end Marcus had resigned himself to his enforced vacation.

As he entered Sheridan's office he immediately noticed the man standing in front of the desk. He knew this man! Think Cole! You know him... The clothing doesn't seem right though... He's a Psi Cop; Alfred Bester, P12. Susan told me about him. Waiting for someone to address him he recalled everything the Minbari instructors had told him about blocking telepaths and detecting scans. Pike fighting wasn't the only class he'd excelled at.

"Marcus, please sit down. There's something we need to discuss with you." Sheridan gestured him to take the seat next to Delenn.

After having bowed to her he seated himself. Always alert, he felt the Psi Cop's eyes on him. Wonder why he's out of uniform though?

This is Mr. Bester... Psi Corps. He has come here to ask for our assistance in a very important matter," Sheridan remarked.

Noticing the stress on the word very, Marcus realized something unexpected must have happened. Delenn's eyes were filled with worry and the Captain shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

Bester decided it best to interrupt Sheridan at this point and to continue himself. "I need a safe transport to Centauri Prime, Mr. Cole. There's a secret base located on that planet which needs to be totally destroyed." Alfred studied the Ranger and probed his mind very carefully. He had to be certain Marcus Cole was the man he needed for this job.

Marcus grinned as he felt the tentacles of Bester's mind trying to twine around his thoughts. "That's not going to work, Mr. Bester. I've been trained to detect a scan and to block it when necessary. Minbari telepaths make very good teachers." Strangely enough Bester's attempt to scan him didn't tick him off. To be honest, he would have been disappointed if the Psi Cop hadn't tried. He could also tell that it was an attempt to scan him mildly; not a deep scan meant to extract information. It felt more like a challenge. So Mr. Bester likes to play mind games; I love a challenge. He knew of Susan's dislike of the Psi Cop, but wanted to judge the man himself.

"Very good, Mr. Cole. I would have been disappointed if you hadn't detected my half hearted attempt to scan you." Bester returned that smile and felt something stir deep within his mind. During that brief moment in which their minds had touched he hadn't felt any distrust of him in the Ranger's mind. It had been oddly refreshing; someone who didn't fear him or loathed him. This mission could proof very interesting indeed.

The two men had been fixated on each other and hadn't even noticed the expression on Sheridan's face. The Captain was having second thoughts already about approving this mission. "Did you try to scan Marcus?"

"Yes, Captain and I'm satisfied with the outcome. He'll be able to hide from the blood hounds should they catch our scent." Bester clasped his hands, still studying the Ranger. There was something about Marcus that made him feel like he'd met the man before. Yet, he was certain this was their first encounter. Very intriguing.

"So I passed your little test?" Marcus looked Bester in the eyes, forgetting about the others present in the room. He could tell by the expression in the Psi Cop's eyes that Bester was impressed. Telepathy had always fascinated Marcus. That fascination had urged him to push his mental limits during Ranger training.

"Yes, you did. I think you're the right man for this assignment. Tell me, do your injuries hamper you in any way? I don't want to endanger this mission." Waiting for the ranger to answer him, Alfred tried once more to gain access to Marcus' mind and was immediately thrown back. Good, very good indeed.

Not paying any real attention to Bester's second attempt to get into his mind Marcus nodded at the Psi Cop, mocking him. "A mission?" Turning to face Delenn, he saw the hesitance on her face.

"You're still healing, Marcus. I think it would be unwise of you to accept this mission."

"With all due respects, Entil'Zha, I'm ready to go back on duty." Marcus didn't want to be stuck in his quarters for 2 more weeks; worrying about Neroon would drive him insane. Even more importantly, he would never refuse a mission. The situation was serious, otherwise they wouldn't have asked him to come here in the first place.

"Delenn, if Marcus thinks he can handle this mission, we should let him," Sheridan said softly.

"Are you sure, Marcus?" Delenn looked at him; he was still too pale and certainly badly out of shape after these two weeks of enforced rest.

"I'm sure."

"I'll give you my permission on one condition," Delenn sighed. She felt like making a mistake by assigning this mission to him. "I want you to go to Medlab and have one more final check. If Doctor Franklin thinks you're fit for duty, I will allow you to leave."

"Thank you, Entil'Zha." Marcus got to his feet. His ribs still hurt as he bowed, but he managed to hide it from Delenn's stare.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"A mission?" Stephen shook his head. "One day your recklessness will kill you, Marcus. You should rest, not run off on some mission." Checking the readings he remembered Marcus' frustration once the Ranger had realized it was Doctor Hobbs' day off and Stephen was going to conduct his physical now.

"Stephen, all I want is your okay so I can leave. I've had plenty of sermons lately."

"And when are you going to listen to them and act accordingly? You know your ribs are still brittle."

"I know, Stephen and I promise to be careful." Marcus sighed the words. Being back in Medlab was making him jumpy. Delenn had told him that first preparations had been made and that the shuttle, which would take them to the freighter, was ready to be boarded.

"Well, I suppose there's no valid reason to forbid you to go on this mission of yours. I don't like it though, Marcus." Franklin finished the last test and watched Marcus slip back into his cloak. "And keep those bandages in place; you still need that extra support!"

"Nag, nag, nag. You nag all the time, Stephen. I'm so thankful it's not the two of us who are sent on this mission," Marcus babbled, fully aware he was annoying Stephen like hell.

"Marcus, grow up," Stephen grinned, but his worry didn't go away. The Ranger seemed to be recovering nicely, but there was something he couldn't name that kept bugging him. Perhaps it was that hooded expression in Marcus' eyes; maybe his hyperactivity.

"I thought I already did that and that you're the one who never got past the age of four," Marcus exclaimed. He knew he was tense and verbally bantering with Stephen used to relax him.

"Just make sure you get back in one piece."

"And what piece would you prefer I wonder?" Marcus was on a roll and knew he was about to push his friend over the edge, so he quickly dashed out of the room. Stephen's booming laughter filled the corridor and made him grin mischievously.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bester was already onboard of the shuttle when he arrived. Marcus had packed some things which could come in handy. Putting his duffel in the corner of the shuttle, his fingers slid along Neroon's letter in his pocket. It was the one thing he didn't want to leave behind. Carrying that letter on his body made it seem like Neroon was close to him. A love-sick teenager was what Michael called me. I never had the time to be one, but it looks like I'm making up for it right now.

"Ready to go, Mr. Cole?" Bester had seated himself and was watching the Ranger, who for some elusive reason began to blush. Alfred had always considered himself a good judge of character and his telepathic ability usually helped him determine why a certain person acted the way he did but Marcus Cole was different. This time he had to rely on his instinct and that instinct told him he was dealing with an extraordinary person. Marcus' presence was coaxing him to lower his walls; why?

Strapping himself into the pilot seat, Marcus fed the computer all necessary data.

"I hope my little test didn't upset you, Mr. Cole?" It had been necessary; had Marcus Cole not been able to detect and block the scan Bester would have been forced to search for another Ranger who did own those abilities. There was always the chance that Caim would manage to locate and try to question them. Alfred didn't worry for himself; he could block Caim, and Cole had been able to block him, a P12. Hopefully he would be able to block a P13 as well. Perhaps he would be able to strengthen Marcus' defenses during their trip. If Caim tried a deep scan on Marcus, the Ranger would have to give in after some time. Marcus might be able to block a telepath for some moments, but what if that telepath was going to try and scan for hours?

"No, Mr. Bester. It didn't upset me. I knew you were going to try that," Marcus mumbled, concentrating on maneuvering the shuttle out of the docking area.

"How did you know?"

"Something in your manner; the way you looked at me. It's hard to explain. I learned to trust my instincts a long time ago and they haven't let be down so far."

Nodding his head, Alfred realized he'd made the right choice. "Where are we heading, Mr. Cole?"

"The name's Marcus. Mr. Cole makes me... sound old." Marcus relaxed once they'd left Babylon 5. He loved flying. William had once told he was a natural born pilot and Marcus hadn't denied that statement. The Rangers were his life, but flying was part of his soul.

"Old? My information told me you're 35," Bester said, trying to impress Marcus but he had no idea why.

Marcus shot him an admiring glance. "You've got good contacts then; I know it's hard to get decent data on Rangers."

"You still haven't told me where we're heading... Marcus." The name flowed easily from his tongue and he wondered once more why he felt like he could trust the Ranger. Normally he would never trust a mundane.

"We're flying to Gamma 3. A freighter called Andromeda will take us to the borders of Centauri space. We'll be onboard that ship for 2 days. Once we get to the borders I'll have to improvise." He caught Bester's expression and knew the Psi Cop was worried.

"Improvise?" Bester definitely didn't like the sound of that word, but Marcus seemed unconcerned, even chipper.

"I always work best when I have to improvise; makes me creative. It will be harder for anyone to track us." Laying in a new course, he leaned back into the comfort of the chair. "That's what you're really worried about; that someone will pick up our trial, isn't it?"

Bester couldn't help himself and grinned. "You're very observant, Marcus. You're right of course. I know for certain someone is going to try to stop us." Uncovering the data crystal he'd shown to Delenn and Sheridan earlier, he handed it to the Ranger. "You should know what we're up against. Watch this and you'll understand why we have to be careful."

Accepting the data crystal, Marcus knew Bester was serious.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"This is monstrous!" Marcus had watched the recording in silence, but with growing aggravation. He now understood the importance of their mission.

"I knew you would see it that way," Bester replied smugly. While Marcus had been looking at the recording, he had been studying Marcus. The disgust had been obvious on the Ranger's face. "Our mission is to destroy that base and all data concerning Caim's experiments. This can't be allowed to happen."

"What about this Caim? Won't he just set up a new location?"

"You don't know him as well as I do," Bester stated. "He'll track us down. If we play our cards right we can eliminate him as well."

This mission was proving to be more hazardous than Marcus had originally thought. No, let me rephrase that; Bester is proving to be more dangerous than I thought. There had to be some kind of hidden agenda the Psi Cop was pursuing.

"I hope you understand that there's a chance that one, or both of us, could die during this mission."

"Rangers live and die for the One, Mr. Bester," Marcus stated calmly and wondered about this twist of fate. What if Neroon survived his mission, returned to Babylon 5 only to discover he was the one who'd died? He would never get the chance to give the warrior his answer. Reaching into his pocket he curled his fingers around the precious letter. Perhaps he could write one in return and ask a contact to make sure it would be handed over to Neroon upon his return? Bester's voice intruded on his worries.

"Why don't you call me Alfred? Mr. Bester makes me sound so... old," he said jokingly; hardly recognizing himself. I must be losing my sanity to actually trust a mundane! If I could scan him I would be able to find out why he's having this effect on me.

"Alfred, I hope you don't mind, but I'm going to take a cat nap. I suggest you do the same." After Marcus had made sure the shuttle was on the correct course he closed his eyes. It wasn't his intention to sleep; he needed time to sort things out.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Care to tell me why you hate the Shadows so much?"

Marcus' question caught Bester off-guard. With eyes closed, the Ranger had appeared asleep to him. They hadn't spoken since their departure one hour ago and Alfred had used that time to adjust his plans now that Marcus Cole had accepted this assignment. Unwilling to answer, he tried to think of a way to avoid telling Marcus the truth. In the end however he opted for being honest; he couldn't take the risk that the Ranger would detect a lie. During this mission they had to be able to rely on each other.

"They took the woman I loved away from me," Alfred answered calmly and making sure no emotion showed in his voice he continued, "And our unborn child which she was carrying."

Opening his eyes, Marcus felt like he was reliving some flash back to his own past. "I'm sorry. I know how you must feel."

That answer made Bester curious and closely observing Marcus he saw a familiar emotion in his eyes. "You lost a lover as well due to the Shadows?"

Someone who could have been my lover, Marcus ranger thought sadly. Realizing he couldn't ignore Bester's question, he tried to hide his emotions. "Don't you know? I thought you gathered some information about me?" Brilliant move, Cole! Stalling and challenging him at the same time! You do know how to make things hard on yourself, don't you?

Bester sensed this discomfort and recalled the data he'd read on Marcus Cole. "You were raised on several mining colonies. Things changed after your family managed to save enough money to buy the Arisia Mining Company and settle down at last. After you were released from Earthforce you had to take over the family business because your parents had died. Your brother William left Arisia and finally ended up with the Rangers. Arisia was destroyed during a Shadow attack. Very few survived that attack, but you were among them. I'm not sure though if there was someone special amongst the victims," he recited from memory, noticing Marcus' shocked expression as the Ranger realized how complete this report on him had been.

"I lost my brother and a woman I was fond of during that attack. Hasina was a very special young lady. If I hadn't been trying to bury myself in work, I would have noticed it earlier." Marcus growled the words between clenched teeth, telling himself never again to ask Bester a personal question in case the Psi Cop would turn that question around.

"Then we have something in common," Alfred mused, masking his emotions perfectly.

Marcus wondered why the hell he'd shared something that personal with Bester. He should have remained quiet about William and Hasina. Only Delenn and Jeffrey Sinclair knew about William and Hasina, so why was he opening up to a Psi Cop! What if Bester was going to use this information against him at a later stage? Psi Cops couldn't be trusted.

An awkward silence settled down between them as they wondered about the other. Thankfully, an incoming message distracted them and Marcus quickly traced its origin; the Ranger base on Delta 2. Opening up the channel he recognized the Ranger addressing him and listened closely.

"Marcus, we just received a message from a contact within Psi Corps' headquarters," the young Ranger informed him. Casting a look at Bester, Marcus noticed his stunned look upon hearing that the Rangers had friends within that organization. "Tell me, Chris," Marcus urged him on. It had to be important.

"A Psi Cop named Caim has left headquarters. Our contact is fairly sure that he's after Mr. Bester."

"Bugger." Marcus quickly reviewed his possibilities. The base had to be destroyed no matter what. This news meant they'd have to move even faster and be alert all the time. The chance of being captured was increasing every second. "I understand, Chris. I'll be careful. Tell Delenn we'll carry out the mission at any cost." Terminating the connection, Marcus leaned back and thought about how to shake this tail.

"Caim wants me dead. He'll also have to kill you now, Marcus," Bester said thoughtfully.

"He'll have to catch us first and we have a head start." Marcus' fingers moved quickly over the controls, establishing contact with Gamma 3 where the freighter was waiting for them.

"What are you going to do?" Bester knew Caim would find them; it was only a matter of time.

"First, get us aboard that freighter and then I'll have to contact an old friend of mine to smuggle us into Centauri space." Establishing contact at last, Marcus sent an encoded message.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Do you really have to do that constantly?"

"Helps me relax," Marcus replied in mischievous tone. Not bothered in the least by Bester's annoyance he continued to extend and collapse his pike, wondering how much longer the Psi Cop would put up with it.

Finally losing his temper Alfred tapped his fingers on his boots. This had to end! For one hour now the Ranger had been playing with his fighting pike. "Are you sexually frustrated, Mr. Cole?"

Marcus smiled broadly. "I thought you would have snarled at me a lot earlier."

Hiding his collapsed pike from Bester's view he studied the Psi Cop. Two days, we're going to be locked up in this part of the freighter for two bloody days. How am I going to survive that?

"Why don't we play some mind games?" Bester ventured at last. The fact that Caim was closing in on them worried him. The Ranger would be an easy victim to interrogate.

"Mind games? Sounds... interesting. Tell me more about it," Marcus leaned in closer, fascinated by the idea of learning more about telepathy.

"Why don't we start with an easy one?" Bester grinned. "I want you to block my scan as long as possible and this time I won't hold back."

"A challenge and a threat? Love it," Marcus replied eagerly.

"Are you ready to begin?"

"Sure, give it your best shot," Marcus answered in a defying tone. He knew he was playing with fire, but that had never stopped him before. Raising the barriers like his teachers had taught him, he felt Bester's mind push against them and realized the Psi Cop was serious about this. Well, let's see who wins this game.

Intrigued, Alfred probed deeper. Marcus was under the impression that he was already pushing against the Ranger's mental wall with all his strength, but he wasn't. In the back of his mind he made a note to try to learn more about the defenses Rangers were taught during their training.

Ten minutes had passed and Marcus was beginning to get worried. The everlasting, never weakening force that was pushing against his mind was growing stronger. Much stronger than he'd anticipated. Bester is a P12, what am I doing? I never blocked a telepath stronger than P8. I was a bloody fool to have agreed to this. But it was too late now to draw back. He was going to fight till the end.

"Do you want to stop?" Bester asked after 30 minutes, truly impressed by now. He was using every ounce of his mental strength to penetrate the Ranger's barriers.

" No." Breathing was becoming increasingly difficult and Marcus knew he couldn't hold on much longer; his ribs were also starting to act up due to the strain.

"As you wish," Bester replied, trying to estimate how much longer the Ranger would be able to withstand his brutal attack. Quite an achievement for a mundane.

Marcus was panting heavily at this point and felt how a flash of Bester's mental energy battered down his defenses at last; the Psi Cop was inside. A dark, blue essence entered his mind and he realized how stupid he'd been. This way, Bester could roam his mind freely and take whatever information he wanted!

A grin surfaced on Alfred's face as he realized he was inside the Ranger's mind. It had taken him 45 minutes to break through his defenses. Caim would be able to do that in less time. He had to do something to prevent that from happening. Satisfied he'd achieved his goal he withdrew from Marcus' mind without touching any of the Ranger's memories.

Surprised as hell, Marcus felt the presence retreat and stared into Bester's dark eyes; shivers ran down his spine and he decided he didn't like these mind games after all.

"Did I hurt you?" Making sure the concern he felt didn't show in his voice, Bester studied the Ranger. Sweat covered his brow and Alfred sensed a lingering pain emanating from Marcus.

"No, I just need... to catch my breath." Thoroughly shaken, he tried to hide the anxiety he felt; Bester had been in his mind. But he didn't scan me, which might indicate I can actually trust him.**

"We need to work on your defenses. Should Caim capture us he'll extract all he wants to know from your mind within minutes. I can't allow that to happen." Bester studied Marcus who had now managed to compose himself again.

"Why? Why can't you allow that to happen?" Marcus tried to return Bester's stare, but found that the Psi Cop's eyes were hypnotizing him and the Ranger closed his briefly.

"Caim won't be able to scan me. Should we fall into his hands I will tell him that it was a trap to capture you. Psi Corps has been trying to get their hands on a Ranger for years; they never managed to do that. You, Marcus Cole, are my ticket to safety."

Trying hard to control his rage Marcus eyed the Psi Cop coldly. "So that's your hidden agenda? You want to use me as your insurance in case things go wrong?"

"Marcus, would I have told you this if it's a hidden agenda? I want you to understand how we can save our lives should Caim get to us."

"Correction, Mr. Bester. You're telling me how you plan to save your skin when we get caught," Marcus snapped. First there had been the strain of blocking Bester's scan and now he was being told the Psi Cop would sacrifice him if necessary. Walking over to the other side of the cargo hold he refused to talk to Bester for the present.

Sighing, Alfred stared at the Ranger's back. This had been the wrong way to tell Marcus. If only the Ranger had heard him out! Anger, hurt and finally distrust coursed towards him and Alfred didn't shut those emotions out. Instead, he tried to send some reassurance to Marcus. The Psi Cop was sure the Ranger wouldn't be able to pick up feelings sent to him. That wasn't something a telepath could teach a mundane. "Marcus, let me finish. I'm not going to hand you over to Caim, well in a certain way I will, but..." He couldn't do this while Marcus wasn't facing him. Walking over to him Alfred waited for Marcus to look at him.

Turning around at last, Marcus stubbornly refused to look Bester in the eyes and fumbled for his pike. There was nothing the Psi Cop could say to restore that fragile trust.

"I want to install blocks inside your mind. Blocks and a shield which will protect you in case Caim tries a deep scan on you." Ignoring Marcus' shocked expression he continued calmly. "The blocks will make sure Caim won't extract any information from your mind; the shield will raise itself when the pain, or agony you're in, becomes too much to bear. In the meantime I'll have contacted one of my spies within his team to free us. But you'll have to trust me, otherwise I won't be able to install those blocks and you'll end up telling Caim everything he wants to know. If that happens, not only the two of us will die. Think about it. In case we're captured and he manages to break your will, Caim will know everything." Taking a step away from the Ranger Bester tried to probe his mind, but Marcus' defenses were back in place and he couldn't sense anything. "I'll leave you alone now. Let me know if you're willing to accept my help."

Sitting down on the cold floor Marcus listened to Bester's retreating footfalls. He didn't want to admit it, but the Psi Cop had a valid point. There was no sense in getting them both killed if there was a chance one of them could get out alive. Caim would be able to break through his shields, Marcus knew that. But to give Bester access to his mind to rummage around in it? A shudder racked his body; this was no time to get sentimental. Being a Ranger he knew the dangers involved and should try to gain any possible advantage to accomplish this mission. But blocks? And what about this protective shield Bester had mentioned?

"I can make sure the blocks and shield will only become active on your mental command." Bester said, thinking about a way that would make his proposal more acceptable to the Ranger.

Struggling to his feet, Marcus realized that his ribs were aching badly. This assignment would take him on a one-way trip to hell. "What about taking them down again?" Looking the Psi Cop in the eyes, Marcus tried to find some menace in them, but found none.

"I'm afraid that's a little drawback. Only I and perhaps... Lyta Alexander would be able to undo the manipulation."

"But I'll be able to decide when they'll be activated?" Marcus didn't like this one bit, but knew he didn't have any real choice.

"Yes, you'll be in control of that process. Perhaps you won't have to use them," Alfred reminded him.

"Then do it before I change my mind."

"It's not something that can be done in minutes, or hours. We'll be busy for the rest of our trip."

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"In case the pain becomes unbearable you'll find that you'll call out to a person to help you. We all do," Bester explained. He'd been working on installing the shield and blocks for hours now and was making some progress at last. In the beginning Marcus had fought him subconsciously.

"A person?" Marcus was tired, drained from working together with Bester while the Psi Cop was inside his mind. It had been stupid to accept this mission; Delenn had been right. He was far from healed, but he would have never admitted that fact. To serve Ranger One in whatever way was an honor and a duty.

"A parent, a lover... Someone you would want to reach out to keep you safe. Surely there's a person like that in your life? Ambassador Delenn perhaps?"

Hesitant to reply, he could almost feel the letter burn through the fabric of his trousers.

Studying the Ranger, who sat cross-legged in front of him, Alfred suddenly remembered a name he'd seen during that brief moment in which he'd penetrated Marcus' defenses. During the time he'd been installing the blocks he'd seen that same name again. "I'll be honest with you, Marcus. There's one name that seems twined around your every thought; Neroon. A strange name; certainly not human. I wonder who this person is."

Marcus realized he couldn't keep a secret from the Psi Cop. This comment was more intrusive than the probing of his mind earlier had been. It showed the power Bester could have over him should he really want to focus a deep scan on him. "It's the name of a Minbari warrior I... am in love with him," he confessed in the end. Bester wasn't supposed to know this; it was too personal.

" I see, how intriguing... A Minbari warrior. You managed to surprise me, something that hasn't happened in a long time," Bester said in a friendly tone. He didn't want Marcus to look upon him as the enemy. "I suggest you use his name as the signal which will trigger the blocks and shield to move into place."

"What will I be... experiencing during that time; when the blocks are up?"

"Not much. You won't have any actual awareness of what is happening to you. If pain is inflicted during that time you'll feel that pain, but you won't know why it's there and you won't be able to do anything against it." Sensing his horror, Bester enveloped him once more in soothing emotions and felt Marcus' terror diminish. It must be a terrifying prospect for the Ranger to lose control and eventually his identity for a certain duration of time. "I'm going to embed Neroon's name in your subconscious which will trigger the protective measures I've installed. That way Caim won't be able to determine why your defenses became active. He'll think it's something the Minbari taught you."

Nodding his head, Marcus knew there was no way back.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Using the cover of the night Marcus guided the Psi Cop through the still crowded streets of Usara; a small township on Alpha 1, the closest planet to Centauri Prime. Carefully scanning his surroundings, he was looking for the bar where he would meet his contact, Nicholas. The Ranger was doing his best not to think about the blocks and shield which were now deeply embedded in his mind. Hopefully, he wouldn't have to use them. Bester was following him closely and Marcus sensed his apparent discomfort upon being lead into the slum area of this Centauri settlement.

"I always thought Centauri were rich." Alfred said, wondering why all these people looked sick and starved.

"Cartagia lives in luxury and so does his court, but the majority of his people are poor. Especially the colonies which are heavily taxed and these people have barely enough money to buy food. I've seen them sell their children just to survive another year filled with hardships," Marcus explained in drained tone. Hiding his face deeply within the shadows of his hood he reminded himself to quickly remove his Ranger pin. Nobody needed to know a Ranger had come to this abandoned place. Removing it from his tunic Marcus hesitantly touched his ribcage; although bandaged it still hurt and he'd taken some pain medication before leaving the freighter while Bester hadn't been looking. He opened the door and entered the bar. His hand rested on his pike in case someone was going to attack them.

It was quiet though and only a couple of already drunken customers were hanging around the counter, harassing the bartender. "Let's sit at the back," Marcus whispered and sensed how Bester followed him to a table.

"Someone's watching us." Alfred looked around, extremely tempted to scan the people around him and only barely refraining from doing so.

"I know." Marcus sat down and studied the men at the bar; these drunks wouldn't pose any danger. But he did feel the same way; they were being watched. The Ranger didn't have to wait long to find out who had been eyeing them. A figure, clad in dark robes and hood drawn over his face slowly approached their table. "Easy, Alfred. It's a friend," he said reassuringly, feeling how tense the Psi Cop was.

"Marcus, it's been too long." A low voice greeted them warmly.

"Nicholas." The last time he'd seen his friend had been as he'd left Zagros 7 to get help to break the Centauri blockade.

"There're Psi Cops all over the place. I'm not sure I managed to shake my tail," Nicholas informed them softly. "I take it your 'friend' is Mr.Bester?"

"Yes, I am." Alfred snapped in a cold tone. He didn't like it when people talked about him like he wasn't present. After a moment Bester nodded his head. "Yes, they're close; Caim's hounds followed your trail." Turning to Marcus he continued, "They know we're here."

"We should leave this place at once; it's obviously a trap," Marcus realized. "Nicholas, did you manage to arrange for the transport I requested?"

"Turn right at the end of the street and you'll see an abandoned building. The flyer is on the roof..."

"Thanks," Getting up from his chair Marcus gestured Bester to do the same. His instincts were telling him to get out of here as quickly as possible.

"Good luck, Marcus," Nicholas whispered, saying good-bye to his friend.

Extending his hand to shake his friend's, Marcus swirled around as bright PPG beams cut through the door of the bar; some of the drunks at the counter dropped to the floor, severely wounded.

"They're here damnit!" Nicholas exclaimed and uncovered his PPG. "I'll try to keep them busy. Marcus, get out! Now!"

Unwilling to let his friend face certain death on his own Marcus opened his pike and was determined to fight off their attackers together. It was Bester who placed a hand on his shoulder and managed to get through to him.

Your friend's right. We have to leave now Marcus or Caim will be victorious in spite of our effort to stop him.

"Don't do that, Alfred." Marcus snarled, angry that Bester had managed to get into his mind that easily. But he had to admit the Psi Cop was right. Accomplishing his mission had absolute priority and he was supposed to protect Bester at all cost. Looking at Nicholas he collapsed his pike, bowed slightly and whispered a Minbari blessing.

Bester realized that Marcus' loyalty to his friend was endangering the mission and grabbed him by his elbow to drag him towards the back door. He was grateful for the fact that he was carrying a PPG on his body. Normally he wouldn't do that, but the gravity of the situation had urged him to be more cautious than usual. Bester saw how several of Caim's telepaths fired at Nicholas.

Finally coming to his senses, Marcus slammed the door shut behind them and took charge. Another friend who'll die because of those accursed Shadows, he thought and forced himself to focus on the situation at hand. Running down the street he heard Bester pant heavily and suddenly realized that he was having trouble breathing as well. Bloody ribs!

Another PPG beam almost knocked him off his feet as it impacted too close to him. Looking behind him, Marcus saw two telepaths advance on them who were constantly firing their PPG's. Wished I had brought a PPG along!

Aiming his PPG at their enemies, Alfred heard Marcus cry out as the next blast hit him. Not wasting anymore time he fired and smiled as two of Caim's spies went down. Quickly running towards Marcus, he was relieved to see that he'd managed to get back to his feet again. "Are you badly hurt?" This time he didn't succeed in blocking the concern from his voice.

"No, I'll be fine... It's only a flesh wound." The calf of his left leg was bleeding and the injury would surely slow them down. "Leave me here and continue on your own." He tried to walk, but stumbled and almost fell.

"I'm not going to leave you behind, Marcus. Somebody has to pilot that flyer." Bester hauled him to his feet.

"Assuming we can get to that flyer."

"Are you always this pessimistic, Marcus?"

"Most of the time, yes." Grinning, he leaned on Bester and together they made their way into the abandoned building. Great, a staircase. Biting his lip, he climbed the stairs and sighed upon seeing the flyer. Nicholas forgot to mention there's no roof. The name made him cringe. His friend was probably dead now. Blaming himself for his death Marcus followed Bester into the flyer and checked the control system. Everything was working fine. Perhaps they did have a chance of making it out of this mousetrap alive! His fingers moved over the controls without him thinking straight; a moment later the engines were powered and the flyer took off. Finally, they were able to leave the planet behind them and Marcus plotted their course for Centauri Prime.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You should disinfect and bandage that flesh wound," Bester mused aloud. It had taken him some time to deal with what had happened and now that they were safely on their way to Centauri Prime, he concentrated on Marcus who looked fatigued.

"I'll check for a Med Kit in a moment," Marcus replied, trying to ignore the irritating ache in his leg. It's not going to kill me, it just bleeds like hell.

"Stay seated. I'll find it." Bester unstrapped himself from the chair. It didn't take him long to locate the first aid kit and placed it on the floor near Marcus.

"Thanks, I can take care of it myself." Marcus bent forward to open the Med Kit. Gasping, he froze as his ribs reminded him of the fact that they were still very brittle.

"I'll do it. It's not like I haven't treated injuries before." Opening the Kit, Bester searched for antiseptic salve and bandages.

"I can do it myself." Hearing the slight tremor in his voice, Marcus realized that he was losing control over his emotions. Centering himself he concentrated on regaining his inner balance. The fabric of his trousers was torn apart and looking down he watched how Bester probed the flesh wound. Trying to sweep the Psi Cop's hands away, he felt paralyzed hearing Bester's question.

"Why are you this uncomfortable with me touching you Marcus? " Bester tried to make sense of the bits and pieces of Marcus' thoughts he was able to receive.

Lost for words, Marcus remained silent. His first reaction had been to deny his discomfort, but he knew the Psi Cop was right. He wasn't used to being touched.

"There! It's done." Gathering the leftover bandages he placed them back in the Kit and walked back to his seat. Marcus hadn't answered him yet and he felt the turmoil inside his mind. Something had upset the ranger.

Staring at his now bandaged calf Marcus felt quite the fool. Someone had dressed his wound, so what! Had Bester been injured he would have treated the Psi Cop's wounds as well. " I.... don't want to talk about it." He concentrated on the controls.

Alfred nodded his head and didn't question him. Why Marcus had reacted that way wasn't his business.

"We'll arrive at Centauri Prime in two hours," Marcus told him. Perhaps this was a good time to get some sleep and ponder their possibilities to destroy that base.

"Caim will be expecting us."

"I know, I'm trying to think of something," Marcus replied, feeling frustrated and tired.

"Why don't you play some more with your pike, Marcus? You told me it helped you relax and you seem tense at the moment."

"No," Marcus chuckled. "Wouldn't be any fun now. It wouldn't annoy you."

Answering Marcus' smile with one of his own, Bester leaned into the comfort of his chair. There had to be a way to devastate that base.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Babylon 5

Delenn was doing something she'd never done before; pacing a room. Worried, she was anxiously awaiting word from Lennier. Neroon was going to be all right, she knew that, but Marcus....? I should never have allowed him to leave while still injured. John had tried telling her that there had been no other way than asking Marcus, but she wondered if that was true. There were so many other Rangers who could have carried out this assignment.

"Delenn?"

Turning around she saw a similar expression of concern on Lennier's face. Her aide was onboard White Star One near the Centauri border, too far away to soothe her worries. "Lennier. It's good to hear from you. Is everything going according to plan?"

"Yes, Delenn. Neroon has left the ship and Vir has contacted him. There have been no incidents this far and Neroon seems intent on acquiring the necessary information."

"Good. Should anything go wrong contact me at once."

"As you wish. Delenn, is something troubling you?" Lennier had noticed the worried look on her face.

"Shadow activity forced me to send Marcus to Centauri Prime as well. I am worried for him. Do not inform Neroon of Marcus' whereabouts. He can't be distracted at this moment. We need that information."

"I understand and will keep quiet." 

The connection grew weak until it finally faded away. Lighting some scented candles Delenn tried to meditate but failed.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Alfred? I'm receiving a message addressed to you from... Psi Corps headquarters." The Ranger had known this could happen. "The sender is someone called Charles?"

"Charles... is a very powerful leader within the Corps." Bester wondered what to do.

"Aren't you going to answer him?" Putting the message through to Bester's screen, Marcus rose to his feet and walked into the back of the flyer to ponder their situation. The long-range scanners had told him they were being pursued by two flyers. He listened to Bester's conversation and realized that the time had come to stop running and face the enemy.

Terminating the connection Bester stared at the now blank screen. Charles had given him a choice; to prove his loyalty and hand over the Ranger to Caim or to be pronounced a traitor. As a traitor he would be executed without trial.

Reviewing his plan once more Marcus knew they had no other choice. This was the hardest decision he'd ever made.... "Alfred, once we arrive on Centauri Prime I want you to tell them that you'll turn me in and that you want to question me in Caim's base. I'm going to contact Babylon 5 and a nearby Ranger base to inform them of our current situation. They'll be able to plot an attack to get us out. We can't do this on our own."

"No." The whispered word bounced off the walls of the flyer and echoed for some moments in the air. Alfred shook his head, refusing to consider this proposal. Handing the Ranger over to Caim or the Corps wasn't acceptable to him.

"Alfred, the moment we land Caim will be there to take us prisoner. I've been thinking this over and believe me, I wish there was another way to do this." It was hard to stay calm, but Marcus remained composed. This needed to be done. "You'll have proven your loyalty and can aid the Rangers in getting inside. I'm sworn to protect you and it would look bad on my reputation if I let you die. Alive, you're much more valuable."

In his heart Bester knew Marcus was right; telling the truth. There was no other way. Once he'd regained the Corps' trust he could help Marcus escape. "Marcus, you'll get hurt."

"Don't you think I know that? The Minbari taught me how to survive terror, or if necessary, how to die." Marcus' voice didn't waver. There was only one regret in his life; Neroon. He wished he could have spend more time with the Minbari.

"Marcus, I know you're right, but I can't agree to this. You might die or end up severely traumatized due to the interrogations." Alfred was surprised to find how much he'd come to care for the Ranger.

"Death is our one certainty in life, Alfred." Marcus replied in earnest. "I can't say I'm prepared to die, but at least this way there'll be a purpose to my death."

"In case you should... die," Bester hated acknowledging that possibility, "is there anything you want me to do?"

"Yes, there is. Have you ever heard of a telepath called Talia Winters?"

"I have." Bester waited patiently for him to continue, but was surprised to hear that name nonetheless.

"Psi Corps implanted an alternate personality in her mind. If you really want to do something for me, try to undo that implantation and send her back to Babylon 5."

"May I inquire why? I don't think you've ever met her." Doing his utmost best to sound unconcerned he stared into Marcus' eyes, trying to find some trace of fear in them. It wasn't there; only firm determination.

"Commander Ivanova... was very hurt when Talia..." Not sure what to say he returned Bester's stare and saw a moment of understanding in his eyes.

"I'll do my best, I promise. Anything else?" Suddenly realizing they were discussing Marcus' last will, Alfred trembled momentarily.

"Yes, I owe Neroon an answer," he paused. "Tell him the attraction was mutual and that I love him." His voice dropped as he uncovered the letter. "Please make sure neither Caim nor Psi Corps gets their hands on this."

Accepting the letter Bester folded it and slipped it into one of his pockets. "I will carry out your... requests." He wondered about his own confused feelings. He wanted to protect Marcus, not hand him over to the enemy and protested one more time. "Marcus, there has to be another way. Surrendering yourself to Caim and the Shadows is madness."

"Don't fight it, Alfred. We both know we won't stand a chance against them once we land and we can't go back without having destroyed the base." Resigned to his fate, Marcus closed his eyes. "The blocks and shield, how long will they last?"

"Till Caim breaks them or... you die," Alfred replied truthfully. "Don't raise them too soon, or Caim will grow suspicious. I promise you I'll try to free you as quickly as possible."

"Let's hope I survive that long." Marcus moved his leg and discovered that the injury hardly hampered him. "Once we get off the flyer you better make sure that PPG is aimed at me or they'll doubt your sincerity," he advised the Psi Cop. Opening a com-channel he looked Bester in the eyes. "Do it, tell the Corps you'll hand me over."

I can't... I don't want to! Bester nodded instead and established contact. "I'm taking the Ranger in for questioning and need access to our base on Centauri Prime."

"Permission granted. Welcome home, Alfred."

Bester shuddered as he recognized Caim's voice.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alone in the dark room Marcus hesitantly opened his eyes only to close them again. The obscure darkness was absolute. The last thing he remembered was walking out of the flyer while Alfred had been aiming his PPG at him. A hard blow to the head had rendered him unconscious. Trying to cautiously move his body he realized he'd been tied to a hard surface, probably an exam table. I wouldn't be surprised to learn they carry out autopsies here after they're through with their prisoners. Restrained, there was little he could do except wait.

The darkness was disorientating him and he lost all track of time after a while. His throat ached from thirst; his hands were turning numb and he tried to move his fingers in order to stimulate the blood circulation. His feet were shackled and he was also restrained around his waist. How much time past while he was waiting for Caim to start the interrogation? Marcus knew this was part of the intimidation; taking away all certainties the prisoner still might have; leaving him vulnerable and dependent. Terror, they taught me how to survive terror, but now I wonder if I'm able to deal with it. I'm in no shape to cope with torture for a long time. My ribs and leg hurt and I'm so tired and thirsty. He desperately tried to sleep in an attempt to escape reality.

"Cole's weak," Caim observed, studying his prisoner on the security screen. "It will be easy to break him."

"You're making a mistake," Alfred said in cold tone, aware of how exhausted Marcus looked. "The Minbari taught him how to block a telepath and how to fight a scan. I know, I tried it myself and failed."

"Are you telling me that a mundane is stronger than you are?" Caim laughed. "I'm not buying that, Alfred. He's been in solitary for two days now, without any water or food. His ribs are acting up. First, I'm going to try it the old-fashioned way and interrogate him. If he doesn't respond the way I want him to, I will perform a deep scan and tear apart his mind. And I won't fail."

Hiding his abhorrence, Bester decided he wanted to kill Caim himself once the attack had started. The Rangers had promised him their assistance. They had also told him that Mr. Garibaldi was on his way to participate in the attack. Apparently Delenn and Sheridan were feeling quite guilty for sending Marcus on this mission and wanted to be absolutely certain that the rescue attempt would be successful. He hoped Marcus would be able to hold on that long!

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Squeezing his eyes shut Marcus sensed how bright lights started to illuminate the room. After having been confined to the dark for this long he knew the light would hurt his eyes. He felt drained; desperate to drink some water. But he wouldn't beg for it, never.

"Mr. Cole. Let me introduce myself to you." A metallic voice swirled through the room.

Marcus realized that somebody was using the com-system to talk to him; no one was actually in the room with him. Very slowly he cracked open his eyes and froze; recognizing the lab-room from the recording Alfred had made him watch. Roger Waxton had died here on this exam table. The brightness of the white walls all around him made him cringe; too bright, too painful.

"My name is Caim and I'm going to ask you questions. You'll answer them, if not..." The voice grew silent.

The door opened and a young female Psi Cop entered the room. She was carrying a metal box and placed it on the floor. Marcus tried to catch her gaze, and when he did, he saw the ice inside her brown eyes; no mercy, no compassion.

"This is my assistant, Dana. She'll take a blood sample and attach several wires to your skin. Should you refuse to answer my questions an electric stimulus will be emitted from the box on the floor. I'm the only one who can determine how weak or strong that shock will be. My advise to you is to cooperate, Mr. Cole."

Marcus tried to struggle, to make it as difficult as possible for Dana to stick that syringe beneath his skin to take that blood sample, but being restrained his struggle was useless. A moment later wires were inserted underneath his skin. In a couple of minutes he'd been hooked up to the box. Several wires had been stuck into the palms of his hands, wrists and some others behind his knuckles causing the skin to break and bleed. Observing Dana's pleased grin, he knew the game was about to begin. Biting his lip he watched how Dana disappeared into the corridor carrying the blood sample with her, closing the door behind her; leaving him alone with his pain. He briefly wondered why they needed a blood sample.

"First question, Mr. Cole. How old are you? We'll start with something not that difficult."

I'm not going to tell you anything, you bastard. Don't count on it. Marcus braced himself for the inevitable pain that would follow.

"I'll ask the same question only once, Mr.Cole. If you choose not to answer me...."

Remaining quiet, Marcus tried to clear his mind of all thoughts; letting himself fall into a state of meditation that would make it easier to deal with the pain.

"As you wish, Mr. Cole."

A second later a sharp pain started in his hands and moved through the rest of his body. It was a numbing shock that coursed through him and he sighed as the storm had passed. That was only the first one...

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Alfred's hands clenched involuntarily as he realized that Marcus wouldn't answer that first question; the Ranger wouldn't answer any of them. Tell him how old you are, Marcus. It's no secret. It'll make the pain stop... for a moment. But he knew Marcus couldn't hear him and Bester reminded himself to shield his thoughts from Caim.

In a dazzling speed Caim proceeded to ask his prisoner questions and after several hours he began to get bored. It was obvious the Ranger was prepared to die in silence. Glancing at Bester, Caim saw the cold stare in Alfred's eyes; directed at him?

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Shaking violently even after the electricity had left his body Marcus was hardly able to open his eyes. He didn't want to look at the wires or at that box, but as his eyes fluttered open he realized that the light was gone and that the darkness had returned. How many hours had past? It felt like he'd been here for days. Was his imagination playing tricks on him or could he actually smell burned flesh?

The metallic voice was silent now, no longer asking him questions. Although his body seemed to exist of nothing else but pain, Marcus felt proud; he hadn't spoken a single word. He wasn't sure though how much longer he would be able to hold on. The fact that no one came to talk to him; the fact that no one entered the room was causing him more pain than the shocks. He had reached a point were he needed to see a face, assure himself that he wasn't alone in this building. Marcus needed to see the man behind that metallic voice.

His throat ached and he could barely swallow any more. A headache was spreading from his temples to envelop his entire skull which felt almost ready to explode. A little voice told him to raise the shield, call on Bester's block's, but he knew that the worst was yet to come.

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"You need to give him some water or he'll die," Dana said. She'd watched the interrogation at Caim's request to learn how to perfect her own methods.

"She's right," Bester was losing the fight to remain composed. Mentally cursing the Rangers he wondered why they hadn't attacked yet. Marcus was dying slowly, every time a little more when another jolt of electricity raged through his weakened body. He wanted to add something to his statement when the door suddenly opened and a Shadow appeared. He had never before been this close to one and his defensive shields immediately flashed to full strength.

" It....is....time...."

Those three words sent shivers down Alfred's spine. The Shadow's 'voice' was distorted and he sensed the creature's annoyance. Apparently Caim had done something to displease the Shadow.

"Not now," Caim replied in shaky voice. "There are no more Blips or rogues left at the moment. We'll try the merging again tomorrow."

Hearing those words Alfred understood why the Shadow was irritated. Caim's experiments are backfiring at him. They want more telepaths, they want to merge now.

"Not... acceptable..."

Studying Caim's facial expression, Alfred realized that the Psi Cop didn't dare oppose the alien. Turning around, Caim snatched Dana's arm and dragged her out of the observation room. "Alfred, I want you to continue the interrogation and... give the prisoner some water. When I get back I'm going to submit him to a deep scan." Caim stopped and grinned. "Yyes Al, you may play with the prisoner but make sure you don't kill him."

The door slammed shut and suddenly Alfred found himself all alone in the room. Determined, he left as well and walked to Marcus' cell. The door was guarded by several of Caim's most loyal telepaths; there was no way he could get Marcus out of the building by himself.

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Tasting the blood on his tongue Marcus realized he must have bitten himself during one of the shocks. How much longer? Why did I ever agree to this? No, wait, this was my own idea. I told Alfred I was going to surrender myself to save his life. Wonder where Neroon is; if he's still alive. Am I dead or alive? This can't be heaven and I never thought I deserved to be sent to hell; didn't commit that many sins. His mind was blurry and he knew he was on the edge of giving in. One more shock and he was going to use those blocks and shields. There was no way he could cope with more pain.

Marcus? Don't be afraid. It's me, Alfred. Caim had to leave. I'm going to give you something to drink. Whatever you do, don't talk to me, he instructed the barely conscious ranger. Bester sensed his agony and had never before felt as helpless as now. Opening his mind to receive any message the Ranger might want to send him he almost cringed when he picked something up.

Pain, terror, electrified anguish, thirsty. Please help.

You have to hold on a little longer, Marcus. The attack must begin any moment now. Placing a glass of water at the Ranger's lips, Bester knew Marcus hardly had the strength to swallow. Here's some water. You have to drink.

Water? Marcus was forced to swallow when Bester poured some of the liquid into his mouth. Relishing every drop of it he finally looked at Bester whose eyes were filled with compassion. You... care for me? In his current state of mind Marcus was desperate for some human warmth.

Marcus. You have to fight Caim. I wish there was something I could do to help you, but Caim has been given full authorization by Psi Corps. My hands are tied.

I misjudged you, Alfred. You're a good man. The thought lost all coherency when his body suddenly shook with a spasm, remembering electric pain.

None of them expected the door to open, but it did and Caim entered.

Bester wondered where Dana was and shuddered. Caim's eyes were filled with an unholy fire and a demoniacal smile twisted his features. Afraid to think about the reason why, Alfred couldn't help wondering if Caim's attempt to merge a telepath and a Shadow had been successful this time.

"I'm not going to waste any more time," Caim proclaimed and walked towards his prisoner.

Not able to hide his trembling, Marcus was forced to wait for Caim to make his next move.

"Step aside, Al. I'm going to defeat this mundane."

Wavering momentarily, Bester made room at last. The Rangers had to attack now or everything would be lost and Marcus dead.

With his last bit of courage Marcus stared into Caim's emotionless eyes. The Psi Cop's mere presence made him nauseous. Shaking badly, he followed Caim's hands till they came to rest on the sides of his head. He knew what the Psi Cop was going to do; focus a deep scan to get the information he wanted. He flinched as a red lightning of pain moved through him and he called out for Neroon, activating the blocks and shield at last. Quickly tumbling into nothingness he found himself floating in a greyish darkness. The pain still coursed through him, but he no longer felt attached to his body. This was a mental pain and he wanted nothing more than to escape it. Suddenly, his lips formed words he hadn't spoke in years.

"Angel of God, my guardian dear, to whom God's love commits me here. Ever this day be at my side, to light and guard, to rule and guide." Where had those words come from? Marcus didn't know. Somehow, his subconscious must have reached out for something he'd believed in for many years. Azrael, if you're my guardian angel, please let me die; you are the Angel of Death. Another tang of pain flashed through him and he knew that Caim was taking down Alfred's blocks; slowly, methodically, one by one.

Bester lowered his shields and felt how Caim destroyed the blocks he'd installed days ago. NO! he screamed in astonishment. It can't be that easy for him! He can't move that quickly! Those blocks should have held out much longer!

Caim was pleased with the result he was achieving. The blocks had stunned him and had thrown him back momentarily, but his determination urged him on. Deeper and deeper he penetrated the Ranger's defenses until he finally reached the protective shield behind which the mundane was hiding. The Psi Cop wasn't that sure that these blocks were the work of Minbari; he somehow sensed Bester's presence inside Cole's mind. Finally breaking through the protective shield Caim stepped into nothingness.

Marcus cringed as his last defense was battered down. Staring into Caim's pitiless eyes he tried to get to his feet in this strange mindscape. In his mind he was constantly repeating his mother's prayer as if it could protect him against Caim; evil incarnate.

I'm going to ravage your mind now, Mr. Cole and there's nothing you can do to stop me.

A soundless scream left Marcus' lips when his mind was violated, when a red fire moved through him, burning his memories, leaving behind a trail of devastation. He held onto the one thing that refused to being erased from his mind; he repeated the word angel over and over again till he no longer knew --who-- he was.

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"All right. We move in on my signal. Our first priority is to free Marcus and Bester. Any questions?" the Ranger asked.

Michael Garibaldi shook his head. No questions, he wanted to blast that door and find that bastard called Caim. John had told him about their mission to destroy Caim and this base and had asked him to assist the rangers in their attack. It had only taken Michael one second to make up his mind. Studying the Rangers beside him, he knew they were well prepared and only waiting for a White Star to start a diversion.

A moment later that White Star appeared and opened fire. As one, the Rangers blasted the doors and moved in.

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Bester had made his decision and attacked Caim in a desperate attempt to draw his attention away from Marcus who was having severe convulsions. Alfred knew he couldn't wait any longer and storming forward, knocked Caim of his feet.

It was a mistake. Bester heard the telepathic call Caim sent to his helpers. When the door opened, he expected to see several telepaths, but the sight presented to him made his blood freeze. A Shadow entered the lab-room; a Shadow with a human's face.

"Dana, kill him! Kill him now!" Caim shouted victoriously.

Getting back to his feet and fighting the disgust he felt upon seeing Dana's transformation, Alfred ran towards Marcus and undid the restraints, pulling him into a sitting position. "Marcus, you have to walk! Otherwise we're dead!"

Walk? Dead? Mechanically getting up from the exam table, he collapsed onto the floor. Hands were pulling at him, urging him to get up again, but he lacked the strength and the willpower to do so. All he wanted was to die and join those angels someone had told him about.

"Marcus!" Bester tried to haul him back to his feet, but the Ranger no longer reacted to him. Looking behind him, her saw the Shadow-creature advance on them. There was no way out.

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Garibaldi was the first one to reach the lab-room and felt paralyzed when he realized what he was facing; a Shadow who had merged with a human. Seems like Caim succeeded. Firing at the Shadow, he scanned the room with his eyes; Bester was wrestling with Caim and Marcus... Michael hardly recognized him; haggard, bleeding, a blank stare in his eyes... Concentrating on the Shadow abomination he continued to fire.

His hands were strangling the life out of Caim and Alfred felt no remorse as the Psi Cop struggled one more time before drawing his final breath. A strange sense of satisfaction curled around his thoughts as Bester realized he'd killed the man who had murdered so many telepaths and had tortured Marcus. The Ranger's name sent off an alarm in his head. Searching the room with his eyes, he was shocked to discover that Marcus was gone.

PPG-blasts whirled through the room and Garibaldi saw how the Shadow- creature retreated into the corridor. Confident that the Rangers would destroy the monstrosity Michael ran towards Bester who had a disturbed look in his eyes. "Where's Marcus?"

"I wish I knew," Alfred replied, puzzled by the Ranger's sudden disappearance.

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Confused thoughts tumbled through his mind, but he instinctively knew he had to find a way out of this man-made hell. The human crawled through a ventilation shaft as his lips continued to form that one prayer that he hadn't forgotten. No longer able to tell how much time had past he fell out of an opening as the tunnel abruptly ended. His ribs hurt, his body ached and his mind screamed in agony as he hit cold, damp ground. But at least he was alone now. No one was going to hurt him as long as he managed to stay away from people.

Thankfully the street is deserted, a part of his mind registered. Pushing himself against the wall of the buildings he tried to melt into the shadows so no one would notice him. As he turned around a corner he heard muffled screams and tried to focus his eyes. Taking one more step he collapsed; his hands clawed at the mud underneath them. Swaying on his knees he heard a man's voice address him.

"Well, if this isn't my lucky day. Because of you I spend a week in the brig on Babylon 5. But you would have been worth the money had I been able to sell you. Centauri brothels pay a fortune for human slaves. You don't recognize me, do you? I'm Ranan and this time your Minbari friend isn't around to rescue you!"

A cruel hand tugged at his hair and his muscles hurt as he was forced to look up. A blurry shape, not quite human, was beginning to undress him.

"I'm going to earn that money anyway. Looks like you're mine." Can't risk them finding you though. I know you're a Ranger. Ranan undressed the seemingly obedient human and returned to the man he'd robbed earlier. Too bad he fought me. Now he's dead. Switching clothing he looked at the dead man lying at his feet. His face had been burned by his PPG and their hair matched. It would take the Ranger's friends some time to find out this was a stranger wearing a Ranger uniform.

Ranan grinned, extremely pleased with his work. " Tell me, slave. What's your name?"

Angel, angel, the word echoed in his head as he wondered where and who he was. "Angel?"

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