Centauri Embassy

Some people who shall remain confined to sad gossip seem to believe I am irrational about this.

But I ask you, my friends: what possible purpose do insects serve on a space station? They are ugly, vile, disgusting, and I am not talking about the Pak'Ma'ra. No, I mean the little crawling wastes of space which for some reason, undoubtedly connected to the universe's attempt to inflict plagues on me, manage to find their way through vacuum and quaranteene procedures into this mass of steel that is supposed to represent the height of human technology. Bah. And naturally, they do not stay in any of the many sectors of Babylon 5 I would never dream of visiting, such as Ambassador Kosh's encounter suit, waste extraction, or Commander Ivanova's bed. No, these creatures of doom deign to visit my quarters.

I ask you: what was I to do? Wait until they decided they liked the way I had decorated and started to multiply, yes? Offer the hospitality of the great Centauri Republic?

I have used my sword for far worse purposes.