Several people, including Ivanova, Talia, Marcus and Kosh are gathered around their monitors looking worried. Garabaldi enters, wearing his Season 5 hair and costume. He also wears a floppy hat and scarf and carries a briefcase.

Garabaldi: So what, exactly, is the situation here? Assume I know nothing.

Talia: Yesterday, a group of Ranger Girls toured the station. One of them expressed interest in the President's shard of the Black Star. He took her aside for- how long?

Ivanova: No more than 30 seconds.

Garabaldi: And the girl alleges--?

Talia leans forward and ‘sends' at Garabaldi, who looks a bit shocked.

Garabaldi: Wow.

Ivanova: And that's not the worst of it.

Garabaldi: What's the worst of it?

Talia: The worst of it is that the premier of Season 5 is in 11 days.

Garabaldi: Where is the President now?

Ivanova (consults notes): Drazi Freehold.

Garabaldi: For how long? What's he doing there?

Ivanova: Trade negotiations.

Garabaldi: When's he coming back?

Talia: Tomorrow.

Garabaldi: That's too early. Say he's sick. It's easy enough to believe, easier if you've ever eaten Drazi food. I have. But don't say that it has anything to do with the Thirdspace jump engine.

Marcus: There is no Thirdspace jump engine.

Garabaldi: Of course there isn't. So this can't have anything to do with it.

Marcus: (doesn't get it) Ye-ess?

Garabaldi: Wink wink.

Ivanova: Riiight. We don't say anything about the Thirdspace jump engine.

Marcus: There's a Thirdspace jump engine?

Talia: Of course there's no Thirdspace jump engine! And you didn't hear that there was one, not from us or anyone else, or that the President was prolonging his trip to engage in top secret negotiations with the Drazi!

Garabaldi: Exactly.

A Whitestar streaks through normal space towards a familiar-looking world.

Marcus sits in the command chair. Garabaldi lounges against the rail. Ivanova and Talia stand together, looking a bit nervous. Kosh stands impassively in a corner.

Marcus: Are you sure this is a good idea? What if they won't let us land?

Garabaldi: Trust me. They'll let us land. They have as much riding on this as we do.

Marcus: What is that exactly?

Garabaldi: Syndication royalties, for one thing.

Marcus: Oh that's lovely. Very comforting.

Garabaldi: Relax. I have a feeling they're going to love this.

Kosh: If we go to Za'Ha'Dum, we will die.

Garabaldi: Keep your encounter suit on. Sheridan went to Za'Ha'Dum, and he didn't die, did he?

Kosh: Yes.

Marcus: Lovely.

Morden is reclining under a sunlamp. Weird shadows bounce off of the corners, and sinister buzzing can be heard. Garabaldi, Marcus, Talia, Ivanova and Kosh file in.

Morden: A'Moron? A'nidiot? Is that you? Just put my Flarn frappe on the nightstand... (raises eyeshade) Excuse me, do I know you?

Garabaldi: We have mutual friends in EarthDome.

Morden: Ah, yes. Mr. Garabaldi. And what do you want?

Garabaldi: Let me come right to the point, Mr. Morden. No doubt, with your resources, you've heard about President Sheridan's recent--

Morden: --sex scandal--

Garabaldi: --teething difficulties--

Morden: I may be on the Rim, but I'm not out of the loop...

Garabaldi: I have in mind a project that I think would interest you. An extravaganza, a bit of bread and circus, to--

Morden: --distract--

Garabaldi: To engage the public's attention during the few remaining days before the new season opens. A pageant...What do you think would be the proper scale of involvement?

Morden: It'd take a war. (beat) You want me to produce your war?

Garabaldi: Why not? It's not even a real war. What do you remember about wars? The images, the graphics. Earth/Minbari War? The Battle of the Line, Minbari War Goldfish surrounded by tiny Star Furies. The Narn/Centauri War? Narn being blasted by mass drivers. The Shadow War? Za'Ha'Dum blowing up. The Telepath War? Lyta's eyes turning black... No, scratch that, Bester standing on one side of a bulkhead and Byron's teeps on the other. Earth Civil War? The Agamemnon riding through an exploding weapons platform. The people of Earth bought that war. We faked that one by the way. 1-10th scale model, blew it up in someone's driveway.

Marcus: You did?

Garabaldi: How do you know we didn't? I read the first draft of the Sheridan Commission report. It said President Santiago was killed in a groundcar accident.

Morden: You know there's no Nobel War Prize? There's a Nobel Peace Prize, sure, but who really does the work? The one who caused the war in the first place! Not that I can ever take credit for my work. I usually try to blame someone else... So who's this war against?

Garabaldi: One of the league worlds. It doesn't really matter who. I thought maybe... Centauri Prime?

Morden: Beautiful. Yes! They're so sinister. They've got the big hair, and those fangs, not to mention the six... whatddayacallems. And they're mean.

Garabaldi: Yes, they're mean.

Morden: What if they've got a bomb?

Garabaldi: What kind of a bomb?

Morden: A Thirdspace bomb. And it's in a...a suitcase.

Garabaldi: A suitcase, Thirdspace bomb? What's it do?

Morden: You open it up and Thirdspace comes flowing out... Naw, that's no good. How do you close it up again?

Garabaldi: You don't have to. That's the beauty part. Open up the suitcase in some area of normal space that you want to get rid of...Boom! The whole thing disappears into Thirdspace!

Morden: No muss, no fuss. And it's on... (throws a dart at a large spacial map) Minbar!

Garabaldi: That's great. Minbar works.

Morden: It works on many levels. Many many levels...

Morden is brainstorming in one corner of the garden with his creative team. Several other team members are crashed out in various places. Garabaldi sprawls on a bench, watching a portable monitor intently.

Morden: Ok, so we've got this unit of crack Earth Force Troops doing most of the fighting, the fighting, they're called "The Fighting..." what?

Marcus: 59th?

Morden: Too bland. The fighting 59th. Lacks oomph. Mr. Garabaldi, could you join us over here?

Garabaldi: In a minute. There's a good part coming up.

Morden: What are you watching?

Garabaldi: Unreleased vid pilots. I get a lot of good ideas from this stuff.

Morden: I can imagine. What's that, "Star Trek: Phase II"?

Garabaldi: Nope. It's "Fox Force Five".

Morden: What?

Garabaldi: "Fox Force Five". It's about this anti-terrorist group made up of five women...

Morden: I don't care what it's about. It's perfect! "The Fighting Fox Force Five!"

Marcus: I've got an idea. Does it have to be Centauri Prime?

Morden: We're locked into Centauri Prime.

Marcus: 'Cause it could be the Drazi. You know; "Purple, Green, what's the difference?"

Morden: "Kill ‘em all, let Joe sort 'em out"?

Marcus: Yeah!

Morden: Well I like it. But we're locked into Centauri Prime.

Marcus: The Fox Force Five could have these hats, what're they called, berets? With fox skin on them...

The whole Grey 17 level has been gutted and turned into a vid studio. Cameras, crew and equipment are everywhere. The walls have been painted chromakey blue. Morden and Garabaldi watch Season 5 ads on a monitor stand.

Narrator: ...but the evil didn't die, it just went underground...

Morden: So did Sheridan...I can't believe the way this is cut...

Narrator: ...with new heroes and new evils to carry the torch...

Morden: It looks like Lockley is one of the evils...

Garabaldi: You're not far wrong...

Morden: ...TNT really needs our help.

Talia enters, looking harried, carrying a DS9 notepad.

Talia: We're right in the middle of a press conference.

She presses buttons on the console. The picture changes to a large crowd of reporters, pitching questions to a bedraggled figure on a podium. It's Zathras!

1st Reporter: Zathras, how is the President? What is his condition?

Zathras: President very ill. Not critical, just sick. Drazi flarn, very bad. Zathras warn, but no one listen to Zathras...

2nd Reporter: What do you have to say about claims that the President is delaying, while negotiating with Drazi officials about the new Thirdspace jump engine?

Garabaldi and Morden smile broadly.

Zathras: No Thirdspace jump engine. Much too dangerous. Technology does not exist. Zathras denys everything.

Morden: (to Talia) Can you call him right now? Could we give him a line?

Talia: Yes, I think so.

Morden: Let's have him say, "Our hopes and prayers go with the President in this dark time".

Talia calls Zathras.

Zathras: (puts hand to ear) Zathras's hopes and prayers are with the One in dark time. Zathras lives for the One, Zathras dies for the One, Zathras stands on bridge and taunts all who approach for the One.

Morden: What the hell was that? What'd he do to my line?

Garabaldi: That's Zathras.

Na'Toth appears, surrounded by makeup artists and the like, wearing a ‘traditional Narn costume' that makes her look like Heidi.

Morden: (to Na'Toth) Are you comfortable? Are you fine? Want some fresh spoo or anything? No? Good. I'll tell you what I want to shoot today. You're running for your life from a Centauri attack, and you're carrying your pet Tribble to safety.

Na'Toth: But I wouldn't do that.

Morden: Do what?

Na'Toth: Run from the Centauri. I'd fight them.

Morden: You're unarmed, sweetheart.

Na'Toth: No matter. I'd rip their lungs out with my bare hands. I'd tear their throats with my teeth.

Morden: But the character you're playing wouldn't. She'd run with her Tribble.

Na'Toth: That's different. Can I put this on my resume?

Tech (to Morden): We can't find a Tribble.

Morden: I want a Tribble! Is that so much to ask?

Na'Toth: Will I be holding the Tribble? They shed...

Morden: No, we'll key the Tribble in later. We just want the arm position.

Talia: The President's on the line, he wants to know what kind of a Tribble?

Morden: A purple-and-green Tribble.

Talia: (into handset) A purple-and-green Tribble... The President says he wants a blue one.

Morden: A blue one, then. Just hold this packet of Cheesy Spoo.

Na'Toth: Right. Hold the packet of Cheesy Spoo. But if I look silly, first you will know fear...

Talia : ... and then you will know pain...

Morden: And then I will die. Gotcha. Let's shoot this.

A typical ISN anchor reads the news.

ISN Anchor: And now, more on the late breaking developments on the borders of Centauri space. Elite Centauri stormtroopers have attacked a small Narn agricultural station on Ragesh III. We go now to exclusive footage from Ragesh--

CUT TO: Na'Toth runs through a very convincing burning CGI village, clutching a large blue Tribble. She dives behind some rubble as a Centauri fighter passes overhead.

Anchor: Here we see one of the helpless citizens of Ragesh, fleeing for her life from the rampant Centauri agression. Not since season 2 have we seen this kind of slaughter...

A Badger class Starfury with Garabaldi's personal blazon travels through hyperspace.

CUT TO: Interior shot of Garabaldi and Talia in the cockpit. Suddenly, an EarthForce carrier with Black Omega markings looms out of nowhere and latches onto the Starfury with a tractor beam.

Talia: What's going on?

Garabaldi: We'll know when they tell us.

The Starfury is hauled into the carrier.

A band consisting of a redhaired Narn singer, a non-redhaired Kentuckian grrl on bass, a blind keyboardist and a humanoid Spork on drums performs before a cheering mob.

G'Kar Jr. (Sings): Daddy was a Narn
Back on Centauri
Back on Centauri Prime
Back in the bad old days
The Night Centauro Died
Yadda da yadda da The Night Centaro Died,
Whata whata night the Keeper saw
Whatta whatta fight the Keeper saw
Yessirree...

Pan around to show Vir, desperately trying to control his Babcom monitor.

Londo: (entering) Vir, what is thiiiss?

Vir: It's more of that horrible Minbaro Rose ‘Voice of the Resistance' junk. Nothing else gets through! To make matters worse, I can't shut it off! What's wrong with these people? Don't they know there's a war on?

Londo: I'm not so certain about that, Vir. I've just got through talking to homeworld. They don't know anything. Not only didn't we attack Ragesh, there was never any retaliation from Earth. Either they're all lying their heads off, or something very odd is going on.

Vir: Maybe they've all got Keepers.

Londo: Perhaps. And perhaps I should snort some Dust up my nose and go ask G'Kar!

Bester sits behind a large desk with a computer console built in. Garabaldi and Talia sit on the other side. There is a fishtank visible behind them.

Bester: Mr. Garabaldi, Talia. I know we've had our differences in the past, but right now I'd like to put all that behind us and see if we can't all work together...

Talia: They told me I could join the Corps, take the sleepers or go to jail...I don't want to go to jail...

Bester: Talia. Dear dear Talia, you're a fully paid up card carrying member of PsyCorps, even if you are only a P5. You're on board a Black Omega starcarrier, surrounded by PsyCops. You're perfectly safe.

Talia: The sleepers have certain cognitive side effects... But I'll take them, if it makes you happy...

Bester: You're babbling. Have the goodness to stop. Thanks. As I was saying, I believe in three things. They help me sleep at night. I believe that children are the future. I believe that ‘Moontrap' was one of the worst films I was ever in. And I believe that there really isn't any war. So can you help me out here?

Garabaldi: There isn't any war? Do you realize the enormity of your misstatement? Every time I put the kibosh on one of your little schemes you give me the same excuse: you're working for the good of mankind, for planetary security. If I push you a little harder, you come back that you're really only in it for teepkind. Okay. I can appreciate that. But have you realized the complete and total vulnerability of all humans and telepaths alike to attack from Thirdspace at any time? You telepaths claim to know it all because you know a lot, but have you any idea of the thinness of the veil that seperates us from forces so dark and hideously powerful that they could destroy us all if they so much as farted in their sleep? And by us, I mean all material sentient life, from the hoariest Shadow to the youngest newborn slig, all of us, just like that, poof. Now try to tell me that there's any war but our war.

Garabaldi's Starfury undocks from the carrier and streaks away.

Talia: How in the hell did you do that?

Garabaldi: If I told you, I'd have to kill you.

The sun comes up behind Epsilon III and shines on the station. A swelling chorus can be heard.

CHORUS (sings): We are the Narn
We are the Drazi
We are the ones who hate Centauri Prime
So let's start killing
It's revenge we're taking
We're dropping our own bombs
It's true we kill a lot of them
but they did it first...

Grey 17 is now a recording studio. Morden has assembled a small army of well-known 23rd century pop stars and is conducting them. Talia enters, looking more harried than ever. She rushes over to Garabaldi and whispers in his ear.

Garabaldi: What!? (to Morden) Alright, Mr. Morden. We're through for the day. Tell these people they can go.

Morden hurriedly breaks up the chorus, who leave looking perplexed.

Garabaldi: Somebody get me ISN. The news should be breaking right now!

Talia activates the monitors again. An ISN reporter stands outside EarthDome.

Reporter: ...with the latest developments on the Cenaturi situation. We've just heard from PsyCorps officials that the agression on Ragesh III has been stabilized, and EarthForce and Interstellar Alliance troops have been recalled...

Garabaldi: PsyCorps. I should've known...

Talia: It's over. It's all over...

Garabaldi: Bester cut a better deal...

Morden: I can't believe it! They just ended our war! The war doesn't end untill I say it ends!

Garabaldi: Wait, we can use this... What'd you say about there not being a Nobel War Prize? Sheridan will get the credit for this. Especially if we set it up for him...

Morden: I'm having a thought... Someone, someone was left behind! Some member of the pacifying force, discarded, thrown away like old... spoo...

Marcus: That's great! (Calls on handset) Hullo, Ranger Central? Have we got anybody whose name sounds like spoo, spooty...spooter...Something like that? No? How about flarn?

Morden: Everyone will rally behind this hero... We need some way for them to participate...

Marcus: You do have someone like that? Great! (Hangs up) They've got somebody named ‘Narny'. Evidently some kind of Narn.

Morden: Isn't that the name of a product? Non-meat cold cuts or something?

Garabaldi: That's "Flarny". Horrible stuff. People used to eat it during the Earth/Minbari war, because of the shortages... That's it!

Morden: Yes! Cans of imitation flarn, people could, throw them out of airlocks in honor of Narny!

Garabaldi: Build little Narny shrines out of them!

Morden: Leave them in front of the Lincolni Memorial! I like it!

Garabaldi: Could you get some of those musicians back in here? We need a theme song...

Marcus: I've got an idea... Can we get a picture of this Narny guy? Preferably wearing a sweater... and he's written a message to his mother in Minbari battle language...which he knows ‘cause he's a veteran...

Morden: But the Centauri wouldn't... what's it say? The message?

Marcus: Something appropriately asinine...how about, "Smoke me a kipper..."

Morden: "I'll be home in time for breakfast!" Yes!

The Whitestar sits on an airfield, while rain lashes against the ports. Several Rangers board the Whitestar, forming a protective ring around Narny, a huge, bloated purple Narn with green headspots. He wears a Centauri-style stock restraint and looks deranged.

1st Ranger (to Garabaldi): Sign this. (Garabaldi signs it) He's all yours; good luck.

Talia: Why is he restrained?

1st Ranger: Because he's a prisoner.

Talia: What did he do?

1st Ranger: War crimes in the Earth/Minbari war. Plus he ate a whole class of kindergartners. And he used to host a children's show on Narn.

The Rangers leave and the Whitestar lifts off.

Narny: (giggles) You wanta know how I killed a Minbari? First I cut of his nosey (tweaks Ivanova's nose), then I cut off his earsy-kee (waggles Ivanova's ears)...

Ivanova: You're really sick, you know that?

Narny: Then I cut off all his little piggies! (Grabs Ivanova's hand and wiggles her fingers) This little piggie went to Minbar, this little piggie went to Za'Ha'Dum, this little piggie had spicy flarn, yum yum yum!

Morden: Is there a restroom on this Vorlon tub? I think I'm gonna be ill...

Kosh: No.

Talia: In the back.

Morden rushes for the restroom. There he calls Za'Ha'Dum on his handset.

Morden: The situation is not advancing. Go to plan B.

Narny is still counting piggies. Ivanova is just about ready to belt him.

Narny: And this little piggie went wee wee wee all the way to the slaughterhouse!

Morden: (straightening his coat) Next time I'm getting the kosher meal.

Suddenly everything goes black and there is a shuddering explosion. Marcus shouts at the crew in Minbari. Everyone goes wheeling around the bridge, just like ST:TOS!

The Whitestar crashes into a large asteroid, or a very small planet.

Garabaldi, Talia, Ivanova, Kosh, Morden, Marcus and the Minbari crew stagger around the crashed Whitestar, perfectly unharmed and only a little dusty.

Garabaldi: Great! This is just brilliant!

Talia: Oh, shut up.

Morden: Hey, I found Narny!

Narny: (sings) I hate Minbar, and Minbari, their shell heads just bother me...

Morden: He's not dead!

Garabaldi looks surprised, Talia looks disappointed, Ivanova looks angry again. Kosh stalks up beside Morden, narrows his lens on Narny. A smoking hole appears in Narny's head and he dies.

Morden: Ah, now he's dead.

Kosh: You are not ready for Narny.

The docking bay is draped in elaborate bunting. A large coffin, IA flag at the head, is being slowly wheeled on a caisson by an honor guard of Fox Force Five members. They all wear foxskin berets. A small Tribble follows behind the caisson. A large number of dignitaies cluster around a podium at one end of the docking bay. President Sheridan looks resplendent in his Season 5 beard and costume.

Sheridan: We are met today to honor Narny, the last of those heroes who fell in the great war against darkness, fought by those who held the learning curve against the movements of fire and shadow...

Garabaldi, Morden, Talia and Kosh watch the proceedings from an anteroom off the loading bay.

Morden: See, I told you surfing the forums would pay off!

Sheridan: Narny would have cared little for the honor we pay him here today, which he came to Babylon 5 to receive, only to be struck down in a cowardly assault once he arrived. No one could have known that one abandoned Shadow, fattening on defeat and bitterness, had been lurking for half a season in the men's room on Brown 2, waiting for a chance to strike one final blow against those who banished its ancient kind...

Morden: I really think this is my best work. It's so ... evil.

Sheridan: And so we commit his body to the deep. Farewell, Narny: we smoked you a kipper, you came home in time for breakfast. May we all do as well.

Morden: Goodbye, Mr. Garabaldi. It's been a pleasure working with you, and with the whole team. Really. A good dry run.

Garabaldi: Excuse me, "dry run"?

Morden: Of course, I'll have to make a few changes before implementation, put my own stamp on it... On Za'Ha'Dum we say that if a script has been written once, it's good; if it's been written 3 times, it's fantastic!

Garabaldi: You don't mean you're planning to do this for real?

Morden: Of course I am! You wanted me to produce your war, didn't you? I'm producing it. See you in the funny papers.

Morden picks up his bags and heads for the airlock. Garabaldi nods to some security guards at either side of the door, who also leave. A few seconds later there is PPG fire, Shadow noises, the sound of tearing flesh, and silence. Morden sticks his head back into the room.

Morden: Mr. Garabaldi, there's little point in having bodyguards if one's body isn't guarded, don't you think? Ciao. (Morden leaves)

(Silence for a beat)

Kosh: So it begins...

Everybody: Oh, shut up!