and cigars. Vance could only wonder how, when they had struggled for decent human food, they now managed to get Johnny Walker and what seemed like genuine Havanas with no trouble at all. The answer probably came in the form of Sinclair. Even though Vance had tried to keep his dealings with the Minbari secret, Sinclair always seemed to pop up just at the wrong time. He would smile and nod, but nothing would ever be said.
Within twenty-four hours of him walking out of the infirmary, Vance arranged for a row of alcohol bottles, all the smokes he could get his hands on and even a beat-up comm link that he wired to speakers to play audio-crystals. The hangar he "requisitioned" was like a bomb shelter, but it was out of the way and best of all, it was vacant. Now all he had to do was spread the word.
He found his supplies so easily that he couldn't help but think something treacherous was about to happen to him. Sinclair and his Anla'shok must have known he was planning a party, and they didn't appear to care enough to stop him. Consequently, letting everyone know didn't have to be such a clandestine endeavour. As long as they didn't dangle it in their tutors' faces, Vance reckoned they would be OK.
Of course, most of the human recruits turned up first and started partaking of the booze and cigars. Minbari initiates straggled in one by one and stuck to water. No matter how much Vance tried to persuade them, they would not touch the Johnny Walker.
Before long everyone relaxed. For most of the humans, they had been waiting for something like this since they arrived: a little music - no matter how low quality - and some booze in a relaxed atmosphere. As for the Minbari, they didn't need a drink to loosen up. Within minutes of relaxing with a bunch of friendly faces, most