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was even palatable. But it was also more or less what he would get for lunch and for dinner just in different forms, such as in cakes or casseroles And it was beginning to drive him to an obsession with food, something he had never before experienced in his life. Until now, food had been mostly a necessity to him, to be enjoyed but not overly concerned with, even when faced with shortages during the war, or when certain foods weren't available during the early months on Babylon 5.

But on Minbar where Human food was almost impossible to obtain, he found himself longing for coffee. And steak. And maybe just a piece of chocolate cake.

Sinclair looked at the breakfast and realized he wasn't hungry, was in fact feeling a little uneasy. The nightmare, as vivid as any he had experienced since coming to Minbar, had upset him more than he wanted to admit.

The sitting room, as spartan as the bedroom, was furnished on one side with one table and three chairs, and on the other with a small Minbari altar and a meditation pillow. Sinclair threw the pillow down in the center of the room. He had a long day ahead of him, even with the shorter Minbari day, and needed to be focused and calm. He sat down, closed his eyes, and began counting backward from four with each breath.

He hadn't finished the first set of four, when the door to his quarters opened. The Minbari had different notions of privacy, and admittedly he had not locked the door. He opened his eyes to find Rathenn looking at him with an expression that was somehow both apologetic and pleased.

"Forgive me, Ambassador, for disturbing your meditation. I was just informed you had risen a little early this morning."

"Not a problem," said Sinclair. He stood and kicked the pillow back to the other side of the room. "Just
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