Title: A Bridge of Flames

Author: Third Charm

Fandom: Babylon 5

Pairings: Marcus/Neroon, Susan/OC

Story Type: Drama, Romance

Current Rating: M

Disclaimer: Babylon 5 and all subsequent major characters, plots, and ideas are the property of J. Michael Straczynski, Babylonian Inc. and Warner Brothers. The following story was written only for the purposes of entertainment. No income has been made.

Warnings: AU and AT and going for broke! Combat, profanity, slash, dark themes, mentions sexual assault.

Chapter Warnings: This chapter has not been beta read due to the fact that my poor beta is completely and utterly overwhelmed by real life at the moment, and I do NOT wish to add to her stress level. A beta read version of the chapter probably will be substituted for the current one at a later date.

Spoilers: All though this story is set before "Grey Seventeen is Missing", there will still be too many to count.

Summary: After "the mission from hell", Marcus and Susan change the course of history and find a way to rekindle hope and love in the most surprising of places.

Acknowledgments: I must thank ckl for taking the time to beta read this story.

Author's Note: One Earth year equals 0.74 Minbari cycles. The Minbari words and phrases were found at the "JumpNow" website in John Hightower's Minbari dictionary, though not all are direct translations. Mebels are the product of Monica's imagination.

A Bridge of Flames

Chapter Twelve

It turned out that Sarhat and Neroon had made their escape from the medlab with an impeccable sense of timing. Not more than a few Standard minutes after the brothers left the medlab, Healer Rama'Fi and his most senior assistants returned with the injured Warriors and Worker Caste technicians from the engineering deck. The slightly harried Master Healer made note of the fact that most of his staff was still milling about outside of the medlab as his party approached and put the pieces together as to what he had missed. He also knew that the fallout from the confrontation had to have been minimal since the young ones were still away from their posts and so obviously gossiping, and THAT set his infamous temper off; that horrendous inattention to duty!

"And just what are you young fools doing out here?" he barked out as he came closer. "You all knew that we were coming with injured! Why are you not at your posts? Why are you not readying the medical supplies and equipment for incoming casualties? Or does the welfare of your crew mates mean nothing to this new generation of so-called Healers?" he raged.

The caught red-handed medical staff froze in place and stared, petrified with fear, at their now stone faced commanding officer. And, as those few who were newly posted to the Sharlin were about to find out, that was a very BAD reaction to have. When none of his staff moved, the "Devil Healer" of the Ingata let them have it full bore!

"Move you cud chewing, lolly gagging herd of stupid Et'nishai (food beasts)! Move before I personally feed you all to the Ancient Enemy!" Move you bunch of pitiful, illegitimate issues of Centauri courtesans!" I SAID MOVE!" Rama'Fi screamed in a voice that would have made an Earth Force Marine drill sergeant proud.

At that very irate, extremely insulting and very, very LOUD scolding from their irate direct superior, the medlab staff literally found themselves jumping into action and ran into the medlab at all best speed. In the meantime, they had completely forgotten about their now completely emotionally and physically exhausted, and very hungry, human patients! As all Hell, pitiful pun that that was, seemed to break out around them, Susan and Marcus morosely resigned themselves to not getting any rest or hot, let alone edible, food for quite a while.

Luckily for Marcus and Susan, the young Alyt of the Ingata proved to be true to his word. Trays of sweet tea, soft nata (sweet bread) and lightly spiced flarn custard arrived from the galley amidst all the medical confusion, to the delight of the two humans. That's not to say that this feast came without a price.

Immediately upon leaving the medlab, Sarhat had broken away from his brother and had braved the inner sanctum of yet another Aal (Master) of his profession. Sarhat had then "requested" that his personal Chef, Aal'Del (Master Chef) Morann, "study the slight problem of their honored Human guests'" dietary requirements. After all, only HE was skilled enough to handle such a "diplomatically delicate" subject as the dietary needs of Entil'Zha Delenn's Shai Be'Tri and the Second in Command of the Army of Light. Uh huh…

All right, let the truth be told here. Sarhat had first taken the high handed approach and ordered that Morann "handle" the issue, as he thought he could due to his new rank. Riiight… The galley staff got to see first hand where their inexperienced Alyt made his first command mistake – and its fallout – of the day.

Now, what could that mistake have been? Oh, that's right! He'd tried to ORDER an ELDER, who just so happened to be a MASTER of his profession, to do something! What's more, he'd tried to order around an Elder and Master of a Caste that already felt that the Warrior Caste was arrogant enough, thank you very much, without having "their betters" pandering to their egos. Well, when that lovely tactic of "ordering" oh so obviously didn't work, he'd wheedled, flattered, blackmailed, begged, and finally outright conned the poor man into planning Marcus and Susan's menus.

Unfortunately for Sarhat, his incoming attitude wasn't his only problem. When he had volunteered to ask his Chef for help in regards to Susan and Marcus's meals, he'd forgotten that Morann was… um… just as "interesting a character" as Rama'Fi. He also had forgotten that the Master Chef was just as protective of HIS personal Kingdom, a.k.a. the ship's galley, as Rama'Fi was of the medlab.

That little slip of memory on the young Alyt's part was where it all hit the fan with regards to the future interdepartmental peace of the Ingata. The rather haughty and frankly down right snobbish Chef had been more than just a bit put out that he had NEVER been consulted about the subject before. Therefore, and quite expectedly if Sarhat had even bothered to think about the consequences of his actions, the ranting at full volume began. And that went without mentioning the virulent anger and hurling of rather SHARP culinary utensils – all directed at him!

How dare those culinary barbarians in medlab give such prominent Humans such a terrible picture of Minbari cuisine? Wasn't a war of genocide that had been followed by the unbelievably asinine excuse of "Oops, this war was all a big mistake, pardon us?" and THEN having all that topped off by their current Commanding Officers foul mouths ENOUGH of an insult? Didn't they know, from first hand experience, mind you, that down to a ship, Family, Clan, Caste and Society as a whole, the Minbari had enough to live down after the deplorable actions of all their Satais, Minsa'hats (Clan Leaders) and Alyts?

Seeing the Chef's rant was Sarhat's first true taste of just how much the rank and file of the Worker Caste had then and to that day STILL deplored the war with Earth, the burdens it and its aftermath had placed on the Workers, and what they saw as the high handedness of the Religious and Worker Castes. Not only did the Chef make his objections to the "arrogance and shear stupidity of today's youth" crystal clear, he also opened his young Alyt's eyes to fractures in Minbari society that he had not known existed. And, as the only member of the Elite of one of the Castes the Workers held responsible for the messes that they had to constantly deal with and clean up after, the Chef of course took out his frustrations on Sarhat.

Needless to say, Sarhat found himself trying to perform the second "strategic tactical withdrawal" of that morning, this time failing miserably since he hadn't taken the rather LARGE hint of the rest of the galley staff's running for cover the second the Aal'Del had started growling. He'd barely dodged the entirety Chef's personal cleaver and butcher knife set, taken two direct hits with at least partially filled tea urns, three more with nata mixing bowls - one of which that still had had rising nata dough in it - and one with a used flarn grater before he'd made out the galley door. He'd then made his way as quickly as was possible to his quarters to clean up, change uniforms, regroup, and hopefully meditate some of the stress of the morning away before facing the rest of his duties of the day.