From: Mr G D Williams Subject: Heeding The Warning Part 1 of 4 [AT] Date: Fri, 2 May 1997 02:38:25 +0100 (BST) "It was the dawn of the third age of Mankind, a dawn that it looked as though we would not survive to see. For ten years, we had been an outcast race, our homeworld destroyed, our people scattered. For ten years, our only hope was one ship, and one man, our only hope was no hope at all, for we were weak, and the Minbari were strong. "And then came an elder race, powerful beyond our wildest dreams. At no cost they offered us their help, but we did not understand that the greatest cost is the one that seems the smallest, that the most open ally has the most secrets to hide. "And when the fate of humanity is in the balance, who is to be sure who is friend, and who is enemy? Our greatest hope may become our greatest sorrow, and our greatest enemy, our greatest friend." Commander David Corwin, Personal Diaries. ---------------- Hello people. Well, here we are, the beginning of the second episode in my parallel universe saga. It's recommended, but not essential that you've already read my earlier tale, "A Dark, Distorted Mirror". This story in set in a parallel universe where the Minbari did not surrender at the Battle of the Line and went on to conquer and destroy Earth. The time is early 2258. Feedback is very welcome, and should be sent to csrcb@csv.warwick.ac.uk. If anyone has questions about the sort of logic I've used in building this world, (There was some logic, I promise you) you only have to ask. You might not get an answer, or you might get a JMS style answer, but you can ask. On that note, a number of people have been asking about some bloke called Sinclair. The name seems oddly familiar, but I can't quite place it... Seriously Sinclair is... around... somewhere... and will be popping up. Promise. Anyway, on with the show. Legal Disclaimer: B5 and all related characters are owned by JMS and Warner Bros. I am making no money from this and am doing so purely for pleasure, my own and that of the reader. Heeding The Warning, Part 1 of 4 by Gareth Williams, csrcb@csv.warwick.ac.uk "G'Quan wrote that there is a greater darkness than the one we fight. It is the darkness of the soul that has lost its way. The war we fight is not against powers and principalities, but against chaos and despair. Greater than the death of flesh is the death of hope, the death of dreams. Against this peril we can never surrender." The Narn preacher looked around at his congregation and he felt a brief surge of gratitude. That so many would come so far simply to hear him speak, to listen to his words - it made him feel grateful. Here, he could make a difference. Here, he could begin the first step on the long road to the salvation of his people. "For too long we have been obsessed by death. Obsessed until death has been all we can see and death has been all we deserve.. Our grief and loss all drag behind us, like chains of our own making. The Centauri kept us in chains of iron, but we keep ourselves in chains of hatred. Until we can break those chains, break the cycle of hatred and anger and grief, then we will remain obsessed by death, and death will be all we deserve, and death will be all we will gain. It will not be easy. Nothing worthwhile ever is, but we must always hope for the moment, the one shining, singular, sacred moment of revelation that shows us the future for our people. "The future is all around us, waiting, in moments of transition to be reborn in moments of revelation. No one knows the shape of that future, or where it will take us. We know only that it is always paved in pain. G'Quan bless us." The Narn raised his head and stared into the night sky above his homeworld. The sky full of stars never ceased to make him aware of his purpose, and his true significance. Once, he had roamed these stars, but now he was here, returned to the verdant soil of his homeworld. The Centauri may have left it in ruins, but Narn held a soul that could never be lost, not so long as one of its children believed. After the service, the Narn had to greet a few of those who had made the long journey to hear him. Many had wept, and asked him to bless them. He had declined, saying that they must bless themselves. He had shared words of comfort and words of sorrow and words that would forever change their lives. At first, few had come here, drawn more by his reputation and his history than by his words or his wisdom, but now more came, and each one who came spread word of his teachings and still more came. He had enemies, he knew, but political enmities mattered not in the face of the onslaught that was coming, and the salvation that would prevent it. Finally, with the dark night sky overhead, the Narn returned to his quarters. They were simple and unfurnished. Only a cot, a stone table, a rack of candles and a copy of the Book of G'Quan, given him by his grandfather, who had died never having seen freedom for Narn. And there were two people. "A stirring speech, Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar," said the first. A Narn. His companion stood silent, head bowed. G'Kar nodded in welcoming and began to light the candles, feeling the light from each one suffusing his soul. As he passed the Book of G'Quan he touched it reverently. Only when all the candles were lit did he turn to his two companions, and greatest friends. "It is good to see you again, Ta'lon. The galaxy is becoming far too dangerous these days. What news do you bring?" "Not good, Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar." G'Kar sighed softly at the title. Holy One. He had told Ta'lon not to use it, but the man was determined in his vision. "Sheridan the StarKiller was betrayed on Vega 7 and captured by members of the Wind Sword clan of the Minbari. He was taken to Minbar in chains." "Great G'Quan!" G'Kar breathed. "Betrayed? By Na'Far?" "Yes," Ta'lon replied. "By Administrator Na'Far. But somehow, Sheridan escaped Minbar. Our agents have not been able to find out how, except that it was remarkably easy for him to do so. One of the Grey Council - Satai Delenn - disappeared at the same time. The reports from our agents on Minbar seem divided. Some say Sheridan captured her, others that she helped him flee and went with him. None seem certain, although what is certain is that the Grey Council is now more warrior based than ever. Without Satai Delenn's opposition, Satai Sinoval, head of the Wind Swords clan will almost certainly be named Ranger One, and maybe even the Holy One once the period of mourning for Dukhat ends." "I have heard of this Sinoval. I do not like what I have heard." "Sinoval is an ambitious man," said the third person, breaking his silence. "I have known him well. He genuinely believes he is the person to lead in the fight against the Enemy, and he may be, for all we know. He is skilled, intelligent and well-liked, but he is also vain, arrogant and determined. He will be opposed to what we have built here, on that you may be sure. He may demand that we swear loyalty to him." "And will you do that?" G'Kar asked. "I have sworn myself to your side, Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar," Ta'lon said simply. "To you and to your dream." "I also." "I thank you for your loyalty, and I pray that I am worthy of it. Is there anything else?" "Yes, Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar. Sheridan made to return to Vega 7, undoubtedly to discover why he was betrayed there. What he found... we are not sure. No word has come from our agents there, and no one has been able to reach Vega 7 by communications in over four days. The last message we received said simply: It is awakening. The entire colony was destroyed, as were two Minbari warships above the planet." "Sheridan?" "No," said the third. "Sheridan is a skilled warrior, but not that skilled. The Enemy returned to Vega 7 and regained the vessel they hid there centuries ago." "So, they are moving faster than we had thought, and they must be confident indeed, to risk an attack like this." "Little confidence, Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar. There is no proof it was them. The kHa'Ri believe it was the Centauri. The Earthers believe it was the Minbari. The Minbari believe it was Sheridan. The Centauri... do not care." "But they are coming, faster and stronger than ever before. G'Quan aid us. And these devlopments regarding Sheridan... I do not like them. Sheridan is becoming more and more a force in this galaxy, whether for good or ill I do not know." "Would you like us to contact him, Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar?"Ta'lon said. "Perhaps bring him here." "Not yet. We know too little about him, save his skill. No, if he wishes to come here, then so be it, but we cannot risk alerting him to what we are building here if his sympathies lie with the Enemy. I think our greatest concern is with his betrayal. I knew Na'Far, and he would not do something like this, not without orders. This came from the kHa'Ri, I would stake my eye on it. Find out who, and why. Was this simply money, or something deeper? G'Quan bless you both." "G'Quan bless you, Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar." "Walk with Valen," said the third, removing the hood of his black, warrior caste robe. The sight of a Minbari on Narn was rare, but this was a rare Minbari. "The Rangers on Minbar were meant to be our greates line of defence against the Enemy, and under Branmer they were, but Branmer is gone, and the Rangers are gone with him. The Rangers we have created here must not fail. Valen walk with you, G'Kar, and Valeria's blessings fall on you." "And with you, Neroon." The two of them went, leaving G'Kar alone. No, not alone. He was never alone. He had his book, and his dreams, and the souls of a billion Narns to guide him. And he had something else. "Are you there?" he asked softly. The Vorlon moved forward, coming into view. As G'Kar raised his eyes, the Vorlon's encounter suit opened. G'Kar smiled softly. "G'Lan," he breathed. ---------------------- "Who are you?" "I am Delenn." "Of the Grey Council?" "Yes." "Which clan?" "Mir." General Hague sat watching the interrogation silently, resting against the wall opposite their Minbari prisoner. He had never ceased to be amazed by Sheridan's luck, never since the defence of Orion 7 where Sheridan had rescued him and others in the Resistance Government, but this... this nearly surprised even Hague. Sheridan had been captured by Minbari, taken to their homeworld and had escaped, bringing with him a Minbari prisoner - a member of the fabled Grey Council no less. Perhaps Sheridan had at last delivered the means for humanity to leave this barren rock at Proxima 3 and take back their rightful place in the galaxy. Perhaps this frail Minbari woman with the eyes of fire could spell the way to humanity's restoration. And they would have Sheridan to thank for it. Again. And then there was Sheridan's other guest, and the promise of allies. Hague was still unsure about that, but he was in a definite minority there. Hague shifted his attentions back to the interrogation. Delenn was staring directly into the eyes of her questioner - a Security official named Welles. Hague was surprised that Welles had not averted his gaze by now. The fire that came from Delenn's eyes would have caused anyone to back away, but Welles met it equally. There was something strange in the way that Delenn reacted to Welles. Almost as if he reminded her of someone. "Name the other members of the Grey Council." Silence. "Name the other members of the Grey Council. I believe there are nine of you in total?" "We are Nine, formed by Valen a thousand years ago, to bring peace and order to Minbar. We stand between the candle and the star, between the darkness and the light." "Very pretty," Welles intoned. "But you didn't answer my question. Name the other members of the Council. Eight names. Surely that is a simple enough thing?" Silence. "That's enough," Hague said. "She's stubborn." "She'll break. Trust me." Hague knew that Delenn spoke English and so he and Welles had shifted to another Earth language - German - in an effort to confuse her. Hague spoke passable German and Welles... he did everything perfectly. "All we need is time, and a little persuasion." Hague flicked a glance at Delenn, as immobile as a statue. A statue with eyes that burned. There was a bruise underneath her left eye. "No torture. We can't risk killing her. There is another way." "Her?" Hague nodded. "You don't like her?" "I don't trust her. There is a difference. I don't trust any of them. While Psi Corps was still around, at least they were controlled. Now they're all free agents." "None of us is free. Not while the Minbari live." The door opened and Hague turned. In walked three people. One was a Security guard who admitted the other two and then stepped back outside. One was Sheridan, the man the Minbari called StarKiller, greatest hero of this generation. And the third... "Lyta Alexander, telepath rating P5," Welles said formally. "Welcome." She looked at Delenn and Hague nodded. Welles grudgingly gave up his seat and Lyta took it. "Give me a moment to prepare myself." Hague nodded and turned to Sheridan. The StarKiller was still staring at Delenn with a fire in his eyes that matched even hers. "Good to see you, Captain," Hague said, in English. "Have you been checked out by our doctors?" "I was examined by Doctor Kyle aboard the Babylon. I'm fine, General. How is the interrogation going?" "Slowly. Minbari are stubborn at the best of times. Miss Alexander should hopefully be able to pry something out." "We'll see." Sheridan fell silent and turned to Delenn. Hague could feel something emanating from Sheridan, something that hadn't been there before, not in such quantities. Hatred. Directed at Hague himself? Hague had ordered Sheridan's second - Commander David Corwin - not to attempt to rescue Sheridan from Minbar, an order Corwin had disobeyed, an act Hague was not going to punish him for. The Babylon was the last heavy class warship the Resistance Government had to call upon, and it could not be risked on a suicide mission, but still... Did Sheridan blame Hague for giving that order? Did Sheridan hate Hague for it? "What am I looking for?" Lyta asked. She had removed her black gloves and was staring at Delenn, an expression of polite interest on her face. For Lyta Alexander, this was a job like any other. She possessed no hatred, no concern, no pain. Simply... a desire to serve, ingrained in her by Psi Corps while it had still existed, Before the Minbari had destroyed it as they had everything else. "Anything connected to the Grey Council," Hague said. "Nothing specific. We just want a place to start. She has a great deal of information we need, and in time, we'll get it all." A slight break in Delenn's icy composure? If so, it was almost unnoticeable. "Begin whenever you are ready." Lyta drew in a slow breath and closed her eyes. Reaching out, she laid one hand on Delenn's forehead, an action the Minbari did not seem to notice. Her eyes were closed now as well. Lyta's breathing remained slow and steady. "She's resisting," Lyta said. "She has a lot of... strength. Minbari often do." "Keep trying," Hague said softly. He could not resist breaking his gaze from that still tableau to look at Sheridan. The StarKiller was simply watching, as immobile as marble. "I'm getting something," Lyta whispered. "Nine columns of light." "That's them," Sheridan said. "I was held before the Grey Council." "They are arguing. There is... a triangle. She is... thinking of it. She's resisting. Strongly. I... think... Branmer dead... Entil'zha... the Rangers. She... oh my God. Oh my God! The Enemy! They're coming! Black and terrible and... touched!" The last word came out like a wail and Lyta's head snapped back. She wrenched her hand from Delenn's forehead as if burned and she looked at it in horror. "What did you find?" Hague asked. "I'm not sure. It was too... unclear. There's some kind of power struggle going on amongst the Grey Council. She represents one faction, and they're arguing over something called the Rangers. She's afraid that her opponent will become their leader now." "Who are these Rangers?" Hague asked. "I've never heard of them." "Some kind of elite army," Sheridan replied. "Part warrior, part priest, part secret agent." "Being formed against us?" "Possibly," Sheridan replied. He seemed distracted. "Mind telling me why I wasn't informed of these Rangers?" Sheridan simply looked at him, and Hague turned away. "Anything else, Lyta?" "I don't know. Pieces. I'll have to think about this, and I will need to rest before I can do this again." "That's all right. We have time. Mr. Welles, the prisoner is all yours." Lyta rose from her seat and picked up her black gloves. Putting them on slowly, she followed Hague as he left the room. Acting on some impulse however, Hague turned to look at Sheridan. He was still staring at Delenn. And she had turned up to look at him. There was... pleading in her eyes. For a moment, he looked as though he were about to do something, but then he turned and walked away. "Now," Hague heard Welles say. "Tell me about the other members of the Grey Council." There was a man waiting outside the room, a tall man with long hair and a short black beard. "Your guards wouldn't let me in," he said in a British accent. "I swore I'd never let you out of my sight, Captain. How can I fulfill that vow if you won't let me near you?" "I'm sorry, Marcus," Sheridan said. "I just... needed to be alone, that's all." Hague looked at the man - Marcus? - and noticed a flinty gaze staring at Sheridan, but something behind the gaze, like a wild animal waiting to be released. The four of them walked slowly through the corridors of the Government Building to Hague's personal office. As the four of them entered, Hague looked sharply at Marcus. Hague had never seen the man before and Sheridan was notoriously evasive in his reports, but Sheridan obviously trusted the man, and getting rid of him would be difficult. Hague flicked a gaze at Lyta. She could be trusted and keeping secrets from a telepath was never advisable. It was time to bring up a subject matter that Hague personally disliked. "So, Captain. What do you think about our new allies?" "Susan's alien friends? I don't know. We need allies though, and these are powerful. Very powerful." "Perhaps. What about Susan herself? Do you trust her?" "Trust? Yes, I suppose so. She helped me escape from Minbar, and Commander Corwin knows and trust her. I thought you knew her?" "I did. She was assigned to General Franklin's personal staff a few years ago. She was a part of the Babylon 2 mission - explorations out on the Rim, that sort of thing. She disappeared there. We thought she was dead." "Obviously she isn't. General, all the details you need should be in my report." "Yes. I read it. It was very... inventive. If you don't mind me saying, you seem strangely... reticent to talk about this, Captain." "I don't know. It's just..." Sheridan paused, and closed his eyes slowly. "It's just nothing. You know me, General. I'm always paranoid." "Yes, Captain. I know you. So what plans have you got now?" "I'd like to take the Babylon to the Narn homeworld. If that meets with the Resistance Government's approval, of course?" Sarcasm. Such a wonderful thing. As if Sheridan would stay here if Hague didn't give permission. "You know I can't let you risk your ship to fulfill a personal vendetta against the Narns, Captain." "I wasn't planning on doing so. The kHa'Ri have to be told about the Vega 7 incident by someone who was there. Me... and Marcus. If they believe the colony was attacked by the Minbari, they may come around to giving us some proper help at last." "And if you should happen to find out who gave the orders to have you captured, then that would be a fortunate coincidence? Very well, Captain, I realise there's little I can do to stop you, but please don't antagonise the kHa'Ri. We are only here on their sufferance, after all." "I won't.." "Good, then when will you depart?" "As soon as repairs on the Babylon are complete. A few days, I guess. I'd like to take Miss Ivanova with me." "Really? She's in meetings with the Resistance Government for the next few days, arranging matters of treaties and agreements between us and her friends." "She asked to come along." "Oh? Well. I'm sure I'll be able to arrange it, Captain. Good. You might like to check in with Anna while you're here." A flash of anguish in Sheridan's expression and Hague nearly smiled. The StarKiller was not as invulnerable as people might think. Everyone had their Achilles heel. "She's been asking about you a lot." "I'll... get around to it. Good day, General." "Captain." As Sheridan and Marcus left Hague's office, he saw Lyta walk up to beside him. She still looked a little haggard, but there was a new curiosity in her step. "General, do you know who that man with Captain Sheridan was?" "No more than you. His name's Marcus and he was a survivor from the Vega 7 massacre. Why?" "Oh, nothing." She smiled, slyly and secretly. "Nothing at all." ----------------------- "Doesn't want to see me. Doesn't even want to know I'm here." "He just died. Right from under me." "Doesn't even know I'm here." "The life just went out of him. Just like that." "We were together for years. She gave me a kiss when she came back." "A friend, he was, another friend I couldn't save." "A proper kiss. She used to say she loved me. What's changed?" "I saw God reflected in his eyes. He looked so scared." "She won't speak to me, won't come anywhere near me. I mean we've been busy, but surely she could find some time?" "I saw God..." Commander David Corwin and Lieutenant Stephen Franklin looked up at each other. They slowly, and solemnly drained their drinks, and then ordered another each. ----------------------------- *Time to get this over with* Sheridan thought as he entered the rooms in the barracks that had been officially designated as being his. He could have claimed much larger ones, of course. He was after all, humanity's greatest Captain. And only heavy class Captain. Larger quarters were unnecessary, however, especially when he spent so little time there. One of the reasons why was already in there. "Hello, Anna," he said, keeping his voice carefully guarded. "Oh look," she whispered, turning around to greet him. "It's John Sheridan. The StarKiller. Well hello, Johnny. Better late than never. Two days and you finally decide to come and see your wife." "Anna, you're drunk." "Of course I'm drunk! I'm always drunk, aren't I? Nothing else to do, not like you. Not like the StarKiller. Always so perfect." Sheridan sat down on the edge of the bed and looked up at her. Her lovely red hair was a mess, her eyes were tired and she smelled of cheap Narn liquor and sweat. He turned his gaze away, not wanting to look at her like that any longer. "How have you been?" "Same as ever," she replied. "You know me. I never change, do I?" But she had changed. Ever since Elizabeth... their daughter. Dead almost two years. He had turned hard and cold, alive only in battle. She had turned to the bottle. Who was to say that his way was any better than hers? "No," he whispered, agreeing with her. "Things never change." "Glad to hear it." She sat down next to him. "How long you here for?" "A few days only." "Oh, I see. Off again. Can't stand to be by your lousy drunken disgrace of a wife, is that it? Well, fine! Go away! You were a lousy husband and a lousy father. If you'd been better, maybe Liz would still be here. Still be here..." Sheridan spun around and lifted his fist without ever realising what he was doing. Then something caught him. The faint smell of orange blossom. In her more lucid moments, Anna sprinkled it around the room, possibly to get rid of the smell of the liquor, but maybe because it reminded them both of his father's garden, and happier times. It also reminded him of Delenn, who gave off that same, sweet scent. Sheridan realised what he was doing and lowered his fist. She had not even noticed, but he had. He had never once hit Anna. Never even thought about it. He rose and stormed from the room, disgusted with himself, and silently thanking Delenn's spirit for bringing him to his senses. When he realised what he was doing, he cursed her instead. Anna lay there still, half asleep, half conscious, a fragment of her mind remembering what she had been and hating herself for becoming this... creature, but she no longer had the will power to resist. She could no longer envisage anything else. But someone else could. The door opened and she stirred. "John?" But it wasn't John. It was a woman. An attractive, brown haired woman. "Hello," the visitor said. "You must be Anna. I'm Susan. Susan Ivanova." "That supposed to mean something to me?" "Perhaps. May I sit down?" Anna nodded and Susan sat down next to her. "John's told me a lot about you." "Bet he has." "He still loves you, you know. He just can't accept it like this, but don't worry. He will." "Hates me." "No... well... maybe. It's the Minbari, you see. It's all their fault. They turned him into this, turned you into this. It's all their fault, isn't it?" "Yes. Minbari... killed Lizzy. My daughter." "Kill them all and everything will be fine. There's one here, you know. A Minbari. A powerful one. She even led them during the war." "Wha'?" "If she were to die, I'm sure everything would be fine again. She's being kept in a cell not far from here. In the cell block of the Government building. If she died, I'm sure everything would be fine between you and John." "Fine?" "Yes." Susan smiled, and Anna couldn't help smiling in turn. "Her name's Delenn." To Be Continued... From: Mr G D Williams Subject: Heeding The Warning Part 2 of 4 [AT] [MV] Date: Sat, 3 May 1997 00:12:12 +0100 (BST) Hi people, here be Part 2 of "Heeding The Warning" as promised. Hope you enjoy it. This story is set a parallel universe B5 where the Minbari did not surrender at the Battle of the Line and went on to conquer and destroy Earth. It is recommended, but not essential, that you read my first story - "A Dark, Distorted Mirror" first. The time is early 2258. Feedback is very welcome, and should be sent to csrcb@csv.warwick.ac.uk Legal Disclaimer: B5 and all related characters are owned by JMS and / or Warner Bros. I am making no money out of writing this and am doing so purely for pleasure - my own and that of the reader. Heeding The Warning, Part 2 of 4 by Gareth Williams, csrcb@csv.warwick.ac.uk The grey clad Security man known only as Mr. Welles waited patiently in the corridor. Welles was always patient, and thorough, two of the reasons why he had come so far, why he had survived the horror that had engulfed Earth, why he was so valuable to the Resistance Government here on Proxima 3, and why he had been given the task of breaking this particular prisoner. General Hague had warned him that this would not be easy. The prisoner was... stubborn, to say the least, possessed of an astonishing core of inner strength and an almost tangible willpower and force of personality. The fire and knowledge in her eyes nearly frightened even him. From the first moment he had seen her, Welles had leapt at the chance for this interrogation. He had nearly fallen to his knees and thanked the God he had stopped believing in. Here, at last was his chance to serve his people. General Hague had warned him that this would not be easy, but even so, Welles was surprised at his lack of success. For over six days, the questioning had continued. The prisoner had been denied food, water and sleep. On three separate occasions, Lyta Alexander, the telepath serving the Resistance Government, had entered the prisoner's mind, only to emerge with vague images, unclear thoughts and a fatigue that lasted for days. Mr. Welles could wait. Mr. Welles was patient. But Mr. Welles was also practical, and he knew when to hurry an interrogation along, when to wait, and when to push, when to sit in silence, and when to speak. The two men he had been waiting for were coming into view, and Welles took time to study them. Boggs was a former Gropos, insignificant and unimportant, one of millions, or he had been until he had become trapped behind enemy lines during the assault on Io. Boggs had survived on an occupied moon for months, with little food or water, but he had endured and been rescued, with a long scar, a knowledge of the Minbari language and physiology, and a deep rooted hatred. Cutter was another story entirely. Born to rich military parents, the old man's connections had swung Cutter into EarthForce and up the ranks. Those connections had ended with Earth, but Cutter still tried to maintain his claimed superiority. Of average competence and dubious political leanings, Cutter was not especially valuable, but he had two redeeming characteristics: he obeyed orders and he trusted Welles. Both were Security guards under Welles' direction supervision and Welles now needed their help. "You wanted to see us, Chief?" Boggs said. "How much do you know about the prisoner I'm questioning?" Welles asked. "Everything we need to know," Cutter replied. "There was a near riot a few days ago. People wanted to drag her out under the Dome and stone her to death, of all things. We sorted the matter out." "Really? I hadn't heard about that," Welles said, annoyed with himself for becoming too engrossed in this case. "Does everyone know she's here?" "Pretty much, yes," Cutter said. "It leaked somehow." "Really? Oh, well. Our prisoner is proving remarkably unco-operative. If force of will could be bottled, she'd have enough to open a plant. Not even telepathic scans are having much effect, which is where you come in. I want you to hurt her. Nothing permanent, nothing serious and nothing where it will show. Just enough to throw off her equilibrium. With any luck, hunger, thirst and loss of sleep will do the rest." Welles looked at them slowly. "Gentlemen, can you control yourselves? I can't let you kill her. She has far too much information that we need for her to die here. If you don't think you could control yourselves, just let me know, and I'll get someone else to do it. I won't think any the less of you if you can't do this. I don't think I could control myself either." "She's a Minbari," Boggs said slowly. "We owe her all the hurt in the bloody galaxy." "I know,=A8 Welles replied. "I know." "But you're the Chief," Boggs finished. "You say nothing permanent or serious, then fine. Nothing permanent or serious." "Good, thank you. She's in there." Welles banged on the door and the Security guard who had been keeping an eye on the prisoner opened it. Welles, Boggs and Cutter stepped in. Satai Delenn of the Grey Council looked up. "I have been expecting you," she said softly.. ----------------------- Captain John J. Sheridan cursed every last Narn to the fires of purgatory for what seemed the hundredth time since he had arrived on this desolate rock they called their homeworld. And then he looked out of the window and repented his silent curse. The Narns had also know what it was like to lose everything they held dear. For over a hundred years, the Centuari had dominated their people, and now each and every Narn was consumed with a fury for revenge, for retribution and for blood that not even a recent five year war could diminish. How different were they from Sheridan himself? Fine, so Sheridan understood them, but did they have to be so bloody slow about everything? He had been waiting here for three days since his arrival on the Narn homeworld - to personally report the destruction of the Vega 7 colony to the kHa'Ri - and not at all to find out which one of those reptilian bastards had sold him out to the Minbari. Oh no, not at all.=20 For three days they had been debating and arguing his report. What was to argue? Vega 7 had been a human colony taken over by the Narns ten years ago. Okay, so it was a choice between being taken over by the Narns, or being blown apart by the Minbari. Vega 7 was neither important nor valuable, but it still housed a lot of humans and Narns. And then the Minbari had swept in, and massacred everyone there. Only three people had survived - Lieutenants Franklin and Connally of Sheridan's ship - the Babylon - and a miner named Marcus Cole, whose evidence Sheridan hoped would convince the kHa'Ri. Assuming either of them ever got to see them. His Link bleeped and he activated it sullenly. "Yes?" "Captain?" It was Commander David Corwin, his executive officer, currently in charge of the Babylon while Sheridan was stuck on the planet. "Daily report for you, sir." Sheridan groaned softly, hoping Corwin hadn't picked the noise up. Was it that time of day already? Was he going to be stuck here forever? "Proceed Mr. Cor..." His communications console suddenly bleeped, and Sheridan turned to it. "Excuse me, David. On." The face of a Narn appeared on the screen. It was Councillor Na'toth. "Captain, the kHa'Ri will see you now, in their personal hall." "About bloody time," he muttered under his breath. "Will you want to see Marcus as well?" "Who? Oh yes, the... witness you mentioned in your report. That will not be necessary, Captain. Please be prompt. We are very busy, after all." The viewscreen went blank again. "I'll bet you are," Sheridan said. He touched his Link again. "Sorry, David. The kHa'Ri have finally woken up and they want to see me. The report will have to wait, I'm afraid." He switched off his Link without giving David a chance to reply, and he opened the door. The sooner he could see the kHa'Ri, the sooner he would be off this barren rock. Unsurprisingly, Marcus was there waiting for him. Sheridan gave him a glare. "I thought we agreed you weren't going to do that." After his rescue from Vega 7, Marcus had sworn loyalty to Sheridan, and had appointed himself as the Captain's bodyguard. It annoyed the hell out of Sheridan, who didn't need a personal guard, least of all one with the sort of death wish Marcus seemed to possess. It was as if the man considered himself already dead, and just hadn't stopped breathing yet. "You agreed, Captain. Please respect my wishes on this." Sheridan did, but they were no less annoying for all that. Had Marcus been alone, Sheridan would probably have muttered something about respect and then let Marcus accompany him, but Marcus was not alone. "Have the kHa'Ri decided to see you at last then, John?" Susan Ivanova was one of the most confusing people Sheridan had ever met. She was breathtakingly - almost heartstoppingly - beautiful, and she was possessed of a deep, wry sense of humour. She reminded him - personality wise - of his wife Anna before they had been married. Instead of taking away his tensions simply with her presence, as Anna had done, Susan added to them. There was nothing Sheridan could put his finger on, but he did not like to be around her. Maybe it was the power of her unnamed 'friends' who could blow away two Minbari cruisers in ten seconds., or maybe it was the fact that she reminded him so much of Anna as she had been, which reminded him only too well of what Anna was now, or maybe it was the fact that she kept coming to his bed at night, and he lacked the willpower to resist her. Or maybe it was all of the above. Sheridan had insisted she come along, and she had not seemed to mind. He did not like to be around her, but he did not trust her, and he wanted her to be where he could see her. He had hoped she would stay on the Babylon, where David could watch her, but... she was here instead. "About time too. They want to see me alone, but I suppose the two of you can come along." Marcus merely nodded, but Susan batted her eyelashes and put on an infuriating display of childish ingenuousness. "Why thank you, Captain. I'm so glad." Sheridan was not a happy man, and he doubted that this meeting with the kHa'Ri would make him any happier. -------------------- "Well, Satai Delenn," said Mr. Welles as he sat down and sipped his cup of artificial coffee. It was dreadful stuff, but old habits died hard. "And how do you feel now?" "You do not care how I feel," she replied, spitting fury with every syllable. "You only care about the knowledge that I have that you want. You are concerned with nothing less than gaining that." "True," he conceded, looking at her. Boggs and Cutter had done their work well. The only visible sign of injury on her was a fading bruise on her cheek that had been there for days. She was sitting in the same posture she had taken for the last six weeks. Only the hint of a rasping sob in her breath, or the slight twitch of her left arm attested to Boggs and Cutter's work. Hopefully it would be enough to break her. If not, Welles could always call them back. "But look at it this way, Satai Delenn. At least I want you alive." "You use my title in mockery," she replied. "Not understanding its significance. I would rather you did not. Its meaning is sullied in a mouth like yours." So there it was. The anger that had been brimming beneath the surface for six days was now out in force. Welles removed his PPG from his holster and placed the weapon on the table before him. Just in case. Looking at her eyes, Welles understood how dangerous this woman was. "So then, Satai Delenn, explain to me its significance. Tell me of the Grey Council, of Valen and the Nine, of the darkness and light. I will be a most attentive listener." "I pity you," she replied. Another person might have laughed, but Welles did not. He merely raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue. She did so. "Amongst Minbari, one individual leads, but we move together. When our leader was killed by your people, we went mad together, and we stayed mad for a very long time. We are only now beginning to wake up... together.=20 But you... you are alone. All of your people are alone, with no one to wake you from your madness." "Madness? Really? Oh, well let me see if I understand this, Satai Delenn. You went mad from the death of one man - your leader. His name was...?" Softly: "Dukhat." "Ah thank you. Dukhat, yes. You went mad from one death, one loss, and under that madness, you destroyed seven colonies, two moons, most of our fleet, twenty thousand ships at the Battle of the Line, most of our leaders, most of our population, in fact... and our homeworld. So tell me, Satai Delenn, if you went mad from just one death, why can we not go mad from all those deaths, from all those losses? You may pretend otherwise, but you are no better than we, are you?" A silent stare was his only reply, but a stare with a hint of sadness. Ah, a beginning. "In fact, you destroyed more than just our homeworld. You destroyed our dreams with it. Do you have any... oh, how should I put it? Any point of focus? Something for your whole people to believe in - to worship if you will? Anything at all?" Equally softly: "Valen, and the Nine, and the purpose ahead." The purpose? Welles chalked a mental note to remember that one. "Well we have a point of focus too. A centre for all our hopes and dreams as a people. It was called Earth. Here, look at this." He pointed out the badge on his uniform. She looked at it, but said nothing. "EarthForce, you see. As in - Earth. When I first put on this uniform, I felt ten feet tall, as though I could take on everything the universe could throw at me. I had a calling, you see, and that calling was to serve Earth - the planet, the people, the ideals that gave it form. You took all of that away from me. From=20me, and countless others. I have endured. I still have a purpose here. A small one, I will grant you, but a purpose still. I still desire to serve, to do all I can, but others... others do not. They have fallen, grieving at their losses. Suicide. Dust or Storm, or alcohol. Sad, pitiful figures, without purpose, without calling, without a reason for living." Was that a burgeoning tear in her eye? A hint of remorse? "Now, I am a rational man, Satai Delenn, or I would like to think I am. You see, I am aware that there are Nine in the Grey Council and that you doubtless do not speak for all Nine. You may not even have been in the Council during the war. I am aware that Captain Sheridan killed a few of your number during his attack above Mars just after the fall of Earth. You may be a replacement for one killed then. Or you may have spoken out against the war, voted against it, called for an end for all of it. The destruction of my dreams... of our dreams, may have been done at another's instigation, not yours. I am a rational and fair man, Satai Delenn, and I cannot punish one person for actions committed by another, but they are not here, and you are, Satai Delenn. "Mere words cannot express what I would like to do to you in return for all those lost lives, for all those severed dreams, for all those broken spirits. I would rip out your eyes, crush your bones, rip that crest from your head and smash it into powder, tear out your organs, rip you to shreds. The people elsewhere on this colony believe something similar. They would have you stoned to death, or crucified, or beheaded, or burned at the stake, as if you were a witch or something. I want all those things as well, Satai Delenn, but I know that I cannot have them. I know that you are needed alive, for the knowledge that you have, knowledge which may well serve to undo all the wrongs committed against my people. There are very, very few of us with the conviction to think that way. I do not blame the others. They have ever reason to want you dead, but I... I want you alive. That makes me, Satai Delenn, the only friend you have on this planet." She was crying now, softly and silently, but she was crying all the same. Welles smiled. "Now, tell me the names of the other members of the Grey Council." Quietly, so quietly that he could barely hear it: "Sinoval." "Caste?" "Warrior." "Clan?" "Wind Swords." "Ah, that sounds interesting. We will return to him later. Another?" "Hedronn." "Caste...?" ---------------------- "We are sorry, Captain Sheridan," the Narn was saying. "But we can find no evidence to support your theory that the Minbari were behind the attack on Vega 7. This was definitely a Centari attack, designed to push us into conflict against another enemy. They are duplicitous." "Centauri? Councillor Kha'Mak, the Centauri wouldn't go within ten light-years of Vega 7. This was Minbari." "I am afraid that seems unlikely, Captin. The Centauri have been rebuilding their fleets since we defeated them so completely two years ago. We have been expecting something like this for a long time." Defeated them so completely? Sheridan nearly made an audible groan. The Narn / Centuari War had been a stand-off, bloody and devastating, but a stand-off all the same. Neither side had been happy with the result - which was not so much a ceasefire as a mutual stopping of hostilities while they sorted their armies out for another go. Had it not been for Sheridan's personal involvement on the side of the Narns, things may have been much worse. "I have a witness who says that the Minbari were responsible." "We have read your report, Captain," said a testy old Councillor named Du'Rog. "The human you mention was a habitual drunkard who was arrested several times for drunken offences in the past year. We checked with the records sent us periodically from Administrator Na'Far. There is little evidence to support your theory. It is merely your desire to embroil us in your war with the Minbari." *His* desire to embroil *them* in a war? Sheridan had little doubt that the instant the Narns and Centauri met in combat again, he would be sent a message begging for the Babylon. "And there are some of us, Du'Rog," spoke up a Councillor who Sheridan did not recognise, "who are little better than habitual drunkards ourselves. We both know full well that the Centauri are not capable of a strike like this, and nor are the Minbari. This was the Ancient Enemy at work, and you are all too blinded to admit it." "H'Klo!" snapped Na'toth angrily. "We have no time for your petty scaremongering." She turned to Sheridan. "We are sorry, Captain, but we cannot interfere in this matter." But Sheridan barely heard her. H'Klo's words had awakened something within him. An ancient enemy? Na'Far had whispered the same thing as he died, and Lyta had pulled the same thing from Delenn's mind. Delenn had tried to warn him of something on Vega 7. An ancient enemy? "Who is this Ancient Enemy?" he asked softly, trying to make the question appear casual. "Myths and legends," Na'toth replied scornfully. "Nothing more. I am sorry, Captain, but we may do nothing more for you." Sheridan looked up at her. She was lying. He knew that for a fact, but people had been lying to him for years. The truth would come out, because sooner or later, it always did. "I thank you for your time," he said, in as neutral a tone as he could manage. "Circles, Councillors." He pressed his fists against his chest in the Narn salute and then he stalked from the chamber. Inside his mind, things were ticking away. Secrets never stayed secret long, and Na'toth was certainly holding a few of her own. Had she been the one to order his betrayal? Was she even in collusion with this Ancient Enemy? A sudden thought struck him. Were Susan's friends this "Ancient Enemy"? They were old, powerful and made him uncomfortable, and the Minbari certainly knew of them. Susan and Marcus were waiting for him outside the chamber. "How did it go, John?" Susan asked. "Typically Narn-like behaviour," he snapped in reply. "Come on. I intend to enjoy myself on this wastehole before we leave." The truth had a way of getting out, and Sheridan resolved to keep a very close eye on Ivanova. Sooner or later, the truth always got out. ------------------------ Na'toth wasted no time in going to the communications screen in her chambers. Austere and simple as they were, it was the one thing which stood out. It took her a few moments to patch the signal through, moments in which she tapped her fingers against her side angrily. Na'toth had never been patient. When the viewscreen activated and the face of Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar appeared, she nearly knelt. It was an absurd reaction. Na'toth had never knelt before anything - Narn, prophet or deity - in her life, but when in the presence, even remote, of Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar, it was an almost impossible urge to resist. He projected and aura of such... greatness and power that it was almost overwhelming. She had heard that G'Quan had been the same. "Yes, Na'toth," he said. "What news?" She quickly regained her senses. This had to be done quickly. "Captain Sheridan had recently left the Hall of the kHa'Ri. Unsatisifed. They refused to believe that the Minbari were behind the destruction of Vega 7." "As indeed they were not." "Exactly. The kHa'Ri, on the other hand, blame the Centauri, except for H'Klo. He mentioned the enemy to Sheridan. The Earther seemed... intrigued, to say the least." "H'Klo,"G'Kar sighed. "When will he ever learn? He is fixed to the past. He sees the enemy purely as a means for him to gain glory. No, he is another matter. Will Sheridan pose a problem to us?" "I do not know. He has a reputation for skill at solving mysteries and uncovering secrets. It may be difficult to keep this from him, and it will cause problems if he investigates too far." "I know. Very well, Na'toth, are Neroon and Ta'lon still in G'Khamazad?" "Yes." "Arrange to meet with Sheridan. Have Neroon and Ta'lon present, but hidden. They will know if he is touched by the Shadow or not. It may be his thread will come to ours, after all. He may be a valuable ally." "Or a dangerous enemy?" "If that is the case, he will be dealt with. Have Neroon and Ta'lon told you about the... other matter?" "The one who ordered Sheridan's betrayal on Vega 7? They believe they have uncovered leads, but surely I could have done this..." "Your place on the kHa'Ri is too important, Na'toth, and too visible. If your loyalties were uncovered, the results would be... unpleasant, to say the least. I still have many enemies on the kHa'Ri. Neroon and Ta'lon are my best agents, and they will uncover what needs to be found. We all have our place, Na'toth. The universe puts us in places where we may do the most good. You are necessary to me where you are. G'Quan bless you, Na'toth." "And you." The viewscreen went blank and Na'toth stepped backwards. A meeting with Sheridan? What would the kHa'Ri make of that if they learned about it? There were so many games and innuendos between the kHa'Ri that it may cause suspicion, or it may be seen as just another step in the power ganmes, and throw attention away from her true intentions. At least there were no listening devices in her rooms. She checked three times a day, and all her communications were double coded. But maybe another check would be useful. Just to be sure. ------------------------- "I'll admit I was surprised when you requested this meeting, Councillor," Sheridan said, looking around him with polite interest. Not that there was a great deal to look at. Na'toth's quarters were the most spartan he had ever seen. Then he looked at the Councillor of the Third Circle herself. She certainly seemed interested in him. Sheridan wondered if this was more than a professional meeting. He had heard that Narns and humans could be sexually compatible. He almost chuckled as he considered the thought. "Oh?" she said. "I simply want to... hear again your reasoning for the attack on Vega 7. Unlike my colleagues in the kHa'Ri, I am not short-sighted." Beside Sheridan, Marcus was also looking around the room. Marcus had not been invited to the meeting, but he had come anyway, and Na'toth had not seemed to object. Susan had returned to her quarters, feigning fatigue, an excuse Sheridan did not entirely believe. "Everything you need to know was in my report, Councillor." "Except for one small detail. What were three of your men doing on the colony when you and your ship were so far away? Do you commonly allow your men shore leave on planets such as Vega 7?" Sheridan raised an eyebrow slowly. Nonchalantly, he slid his hand down to his belt - and his PPG. He had deliberately left details of Na'Far's actions out of his report, hoping that someone would notice it, and be panicked into making a move. It seemed that someone had. "They were being held prisoner there, Councillor," he said, noticing that Marcus had similarly tensed himself. Here would be a chance to test the man's worth as a guard. Did Na'toth have guards of her own nearby? If so, how many? Were other members of the kHa'Ri in on this, or just her alone? "We were... betrayed by Administrator Na'Far." "Oh? That seems unlike him. He was always very loyal." "Loyal? Yes, I suppose he was. And so if any orders... say from a member of the kHa'Ri came for him to betray me to the Minbari, he would act upon them, wouldn't you say?" "I suppose he would." She was acting very cool. She must have an ace hidden somewhere. Where was it possible to hide anything in this room? There was only one door, which Marcus was surreptitiously positioning himself over. There were no closets or cupboards of any kind. It was plain, almost too plain for a member of the kHa'Ri... There. A tiny crack in the wall, almost unnoticeable. A secret door. Na'toth clearly noticed the motion of his eyes. She made ready to act, but Sheridan darted forward, knocking her off balance. She fell, and he pinned his PPG to her head. "Come out or she dies," he barked. "Did you really think I'd fall for the same trap twice?" Na'toth barked out something in a Narn dialect Sheridan did not recognise, and the door opened. Two people stepped out. One was a Narn, whose simple browns and greys made him appear less than he was, but whose bearing marked him out as a warrior. The second... was a Minbari, and dressed as one, prideful in his warrior black, carrying a metal staff just like the one Susan had taken from Delenn. Marcus cried out something Sheridan did not hear, and he darted forward. The Minbari turned to meet his onslaught, and with a swift blur of motion, Marcus was lying face down upon the floor. He tried to rise, but the Narn placed a booted foot upon the small of his back. Sheridan looked down at the two of them. "Move and she dies," he muttered, but then all he felt was the breath rushing from his body as a great force thudded into his stomach. Staggering backwards, Na'toth pulled herself free of his grasp and watched as he fell. She recovered his PPG and held it distastefully. "For a great captain, you are not very smart," she said. "No," whispered the Minbari. "He is merely not a diplomat, that is all. He is a warrior. I see it in his eyes." "Stuff your talk of warrior spirit and honour," Sheridan rasped. "It was you, then," he said to Na'toth. "You sent Na'Far the order to betray me." "No, actually," she replied. "It was not me, but I do know who it is. I have a question to ask you, whenever you start breathing again." He glared at her and she shrugged. "You recognised what H'Klo said in Council today. Where did you hear of the Ancient Enemy before?" "Na'Far... he whispered it as..." Sheridan breathed in hard. "As he died. And Delenn." The Minbari made no overt reaction, but something subtle changed in his posture. "She... I don't know. She said it too." Na'toth looked at the Narn and the Minbari. The Narn hesitated. The Minbari was silent. "It was black," came a soft, harsh voice. Marcus'. "So black that my eyes sort of slid of it. A cross between a spider and my worst nightmare. As it awoke, I heard it screaming in my mind." Na'toth made a gesture, and the Minbari took his foot away from Marcus' back. "I saw it. I saw it rising from the ground. Oh God, I thought I'd forgotten it." "What?" whispered Sheridan. "What was it?" "The Ancient Enemy," Na'toth replied. "Vega 7 was not destroyed by the Minbari, Captain, nor by the Centauri, nor by any other race with which you are familiar. It was destroyed by a race timeless and ancient, dark and terrible. They are rising again. Vega 7 was proof of that. One of their ships was hidden there, and they returned to collect it. We are the last bastion of hope, the last line drawn against the return of that enemy. They are gathering power once again on their homeworld of Z'Ha'Dum, drawing their ships back to them. We have to stand ready for when they come, and so must you." Z'Ha'Dum? Sheridan had heard that name before. Susan had mentioned it... Susan had... "I don't... believe... you," he muttered. "Don't..." A booted foot crashed into his skull and he lost consciousness. Na'toth looked at her two companions. "Get him out of here. Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar will have to see him." "What of his ship?" asked Neroon. "They may wonder where he is." "Then let them wonder. I will arrange a cover. If they get too suspicious, it may be easier to just have their ship shot down." "And this one?" Ta'lon said, indicating the equally unconscious Marcus.=20 "Take him with you. He has seen the enemy also, and may prove to be a better choice to serve alongside us than Sheridan will." "And what about his companion? The woman?" =20 "I will explain Sheridan's disappearance to her also. If need be, she will disappear as well. I have contacts within the Thenta Makur." "And what if Sheridan does not return from Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar's shrine in the G'Khorazhar Mountains?" "Then we shall deal with that when it happens. G'Quan walk with you both, and with G'Kar." ------------------- Seated in her quarters, Susan Ivanova almost smiled. After all Na'toth's undoubted checks for listening devices, she had missed the smallest one of all, placed inside Sheridan himself through Susan's kisses. It was powerful, and even partially alive, just the smallest example of her friends' technology. "You heard?" she said. Despite appearances to the contrary, she was not alone. She was never alone. "Good. The G'Khorazhar Mountains are just to the west of here, or so I believe. It should be easy enough to locate this shrine of G'Kar's. We can simply follow the signal from Sheridan's transmitter.=20 "Yes, I think so too. A Warrior would be best. Can you get one here in time? Ah, good. I don't think even G'Kar can deal with a Warrior. At least not without his two trusted servants. The Warrior can follow us as we follow Sheridan and when we get close enough, it should be easy to sense out G'Kar. "Sheridan? Leave me to me. He knows a little, that's all. Certainly not enough to pose a proper threat. I can manage to make him believe that Na'toth was the one who arranged to have him betrayed him on Vega 7 and that G'Kar was working with the Minbari. Sheridan knows a little about the Rangers already, and he knows that you and the Minbari are old enemies. It might be a reach, but I can keep him from poking too far. All he needs to know is that you are enemies to the Minbari and are willing to help him against them. With G'Kar dead, that should be easy enough, and you will be rid of an irritating problem. "Delenn? Don't worry. I've made arrangements to take care of that problem. "Trust me." To Be Continued... From: Mr G D Williams Subject: Heeding The Warning Part 3 of 4 [AT] [EV] Date: Sun, 4 May 1997 00:06:48 +0100 (BST) Hello people. Hope you're enjoying things so far. Thanks to everyone who's written in with words of encouragement. Feedback is always very welcome and should be sent to csrcb@csv.warwick.ac.uk This is the latest story in my parallel universe B5 saga. It is recommended, but not essential, that you first read "A Dark, Distorted Mirror." The time is early 2258. There are no Spoilers as such, but I am drawing upon all elements of the B5 universe and people who have not seen up to the first third or so of Season 4 may be Spoiled. Legal Disclaimer: B5 and all related characters are owned by JMS and Warner Bros. I am making no money out of writing this and do so purely for pleasure - my own and that of the reader. Heeding The Warning Part 3 of 4 by Gareth Williams, csrcb@csv.warwick.ac.uk Minister Londo Mollari was not having a good day. His beloved wife Number One - Timov - was in an especially foul mood and trying her best to irritate everyone within several miles of her. To escape her caustic jibes and well thrown jars, Londo had inadvertantly stumbled across beloved wife Number Two - Daggair - who was clearly plotting something. Lonmdo could practically see ther little wheels turning in her head. Unable to cope with her obviously false smiles that still managed to hide whatever it was she was trying to hide, Londo had tried to escape. He had heard that Daggair had been in meetings with that triple-damned harpy Lady Elrisia, and he shuddered to think what that was about. Great Maker, women shouldn't get themselves involved in politics. It never did anyone any good. And beloved wife Number Three - Mariel - was in her bedchamber, thinking, which was always a cause for concern. Women weren't put on this universe to think. On top of that, First Minister Urza Jaddo was enclosed in private meetings with the Emperor - may the Great Maker enable everyone to remember his name. Turhan had been a great man, but his son was such a nonentity that few people ever noticed him. Marrit was not actually that bad as Emperor, but when the best word you can give to the supreme ruler of the entire Centauri Republic was 'competent' then you were in trouble. Everyone remembered the great rulers, and everyone remembered the insane rulers, but no one ever cared about the competent ones. Of course, with both the Prime Minister and the Emperor unavailable all day, Minister Mollari had become the subject for every groveller, parasite and hanger-on anywhere in the whole city, and that was quite a few people. After promising to speak to the Emperor on matters ranging from the taxes and import duties on spoo, to dissolving an unarranged marriage, to the Narn raiders attacking Centauri frontier worlds, to try and force the Drazi traders who visited Centauri prime to speak in proper sentences for a change, Londo was quite ready to kill someone. Probably himself. The day was nearly over, and Londo's mood was growing worse. Bad as all these parasites were, they were infinitely preferrable to his wives - one of whom he would have to return to that night. With an choice of getting brained by Timov, bathed by Daggair or burned by Mariel, he was thinking suicide sounded a much more pleasurable option. After a while, he may even come to like it. And then came one last visitor. Londo knew this one, although in not quite the same way he knew the others. This was serious, and this was trouble. "Mr. Cotto, is it not?" he said. "Yes, I remember you. So tell me, why did your lord and master send you all the way here from Minbar? Not just to swop the usual brigade of threats and insults, I believe?" Vir was looking around slowly. This was a private audience chamber, and as such, empty except for the two guards standing looking bored by the door. "Uh-hum," Vir said, making slight, almost imperceptible gestures with his fingers. Londo noticed them and almost groaned aloud. And he had thought the day couldn't possibly get any worse. "Get out of here!" he told the guards. "Go on! I am quite sure I can defend myself against any attacks. I was not called Paso Leati for nothing, you know. Besides, can you see this as an assassin? Pah!" The guards looked at each other and shrugged. Then they left. Londo looked down at Vir, who stilled seemed preoccupied. "This room is not... um... bugged, is it? Or anything?" "Of course not! This is an audience chamber. The only people who would bug a room like this would be the sort of people who would want to use it themselves. Besides, we check, in between each meeting. I take it that Lord Refa does not in fact know that you are here?" "Not as such. Well, he knows I'm here of course, but not that I'm... well... here. Here as in speaking to you, of course, as opposed to here as in on Centauri Prime. If you get me." "I don't," Londo snapped. "Please get to the point. I have had a long and tiring day. What news from our dear conspirator and spider G'Kar?" "The... um..." Vir was still looking around nervously. "You have heard of the attack on the human and Narn colony at Vega 7?" "Ah yes. There were quite a few members of the Centaurum quite aggrieved that we did not do that ourselves. The kHa'Ri will of course not believe that we were not responsible?" "I'm afraid not. It was the... ah... Enemy that G'Kar has been speaking about. The Minbari suspect this, but they are still a little disorganised following Branmer's death. They haven't got their own Rangers sorted out yet, leaving us to... ah... keep the torch burning so to speak. The Grey Council doesn't even know about G'Kar's little network or agents. At least, I don't think so." "Vir! Of course they don't. If they did, then so would Lord Refa, and if he knew that I was giving highly confidential Centaurum information to a Narn of all people to help fight an Enemy I am not even sure I believe in, then I would be very nastily dead." "Ah, yes. Regarding Lord Refa. There may be some... unpleasantness on that account. As I'm sure you know, the Grey Council has been itching for another strike at the humans for quite some time now. Only political in-fighting has prevented them from doing this. The predominant religious caste Satai named Delenn has gone missing - either abducted or defected with Captain Sheridan. That gives the warrior caste dominance in the Grey Council, and likely over the Rangers, and... probably an invasion of Narn space to get at the humans." "Oh, Great Maker! Not another war! I am still recovering from the last one." "Exactly and the... um kHa'Ri are not going to sit idly by while the Minbari invade their space, and the Minbari would sort of... um like our help. I was sent to discuss matters with the Emperor and the First Minister." "Why did Refa not come himself? No, don't answer that. He knows that if he sets foot on Centauri Prime he would have a life expectancy measured in minutes." "That would be a trifle optimistic for him, I think." "So, what does G'Kar want me to do about this?" "First Minister Jaddo is not with us, I believe?" "He rarely is. That was a joke, Vir." Vir obediently laughed. "No, to the best of my knowledge you and I are the only Centauri in G'Kar's little game." "Well, G'Kar would like you to convince the Emperor and First Minister Jaddo to ah... resist Minbari claims to go to war with the Narn. We cannot risk destabilising the whole area if the Enemy chooses to attack. There is little we can do about the Grey Council, and certainly not the humans, but if we refuse to lend our support to the Minbari, then they might reconsider." "Or they might attack us instead. Vir, my relationship with Lord Refa is not good, as everyone except my beloved wife Timov is aware. Not to mention that the greatest problem is that harpy Refa married! Lady Elrisia is winding her claws into our little Emperor." "But..." "Vir, trust me! I will do what I can. Ah madness, why did I ever get involved with this?" "Because you saw the big black ship just the same as G'Kar did and he saved your life from it and..." "Vir! It was a rhetorical question. Very well, get out of here. I will do what I can, and no more." "Yes, Minister." "Ah, Vir, wait a moment. What about this Sheridan? Is he likely to pose a problem to us at all?" "Ah no. I think G'Kar has that matter covered." ------------------------- Like Minister Londo Mollari, Captain John Sheridan was not having a good day. Unlike Minister Mollari, he only had one wife to worry about, not three, and Anna - thank God - was not here, probably drunk in some dive on Proxima 3. And for company, he did not have a collection of parasites and hangers-on, but a Narn, a Minbari warrior and a bearded British man with a death wish and a profound hatred of all Minbari. He was not in the garish elegance of the Centauri Royal Court, but in the barren wilderness of the G'Khorazhar Mountains. He was not armed, and while the Narn - Ta'lon - had not specifically called him a prisoner, Sheridan was aware that any attempt to go anywhere else - say back to G'Khamazad to gut that lying Narn bitch Na'toth - would lead to severe pain. The Minbari - Neroon - had said little, while the human - Marcus - had had to be restrained after twice attacking Neroon. Sheridan was not planning to escape, however. That would be what they expected him to do, and he hadn't gotten to be called the StarKiller by doing what people expected of him. Besides, he had to admit - when he wasn't cursing the sun or the Minbari, or these bloody high mountains - that he was intrigued. Councillor Na'toth - who had apparently arranged all this - had claimed to know who was behind his betrayal on Vega 7. Despite appearances to the contrary it was not her. Also, there was mention of an Enemy, echoing the words whispered by Administrator Na'Far as he had died, and the anguished cry torn from Satai Delenn's mind. And Marcus, whose whispered memory indicated that the Minbari may not have been behind the attack on Vega 7 after all. And then there was Susan, she of the very powerful, very mysterious friends who had broken him out of a Minbari prison and offered him - and all of humanity - the assistance of these very mysterious, very powerful friends, who were, it seemed likely, the Ancient Enemy mentioned in both Narn and Minbari holy writings. To say the least, Sheridan was intrigued. Almost intrigued enough to try and restrain himself from slaughtering that Minbari warrior where he stood. Sheridan owed the Minbari too much pain to let this pass, but let it pass he did. After being beaten senseless in Councillor Na'toth's chambers, Sheridan had awoken in a small shuttle heading away from the city of G'Khamazad. Neroon, Ta'lon and Marcus were the only other beings in the shuttle, and none of them were particularly talkative. Only Ta'lon had spoken to them all day - and that was when they had landed at a small military base at the foot of the G'Khorazhar Mountains. "Councillor Na'toth knows who ordered your betrayal," he had said. "Come with us and see Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar and listen to what he says. Maybe then Councillor Na'toth will tell you." And so Sheridan was doing just that, although more out of a desire to see G'Kar than anything else. There were precious few people whose deeds were so great that their very names resounded throughout the galaxy. Sheridan was one - always with the sobriquet StarKiller - Satai Delenn of the Grey Council; Satai Sinoval, also of the Grey Council and WarLeader of the Wind Swords clan; WarMarshal Jha'Dur of the Dilgar, called DeathWalker, missing, presumed dead; General Richard "FireStorm" Franklin, dead these past few years; and G'Kar, greatest Narn hero in their war with the Centauri, general and leader beyond peer, who had mysteriously resigned from the kHa'Ri as the war neared its bloody stalemate, and who had not been seen since. Despite fighting in that same war - on the side of the Narns - Sheridan had not met G'Kar, although he would very much have liked to. As he finally reached the top of the pass that led down into the small valley, Sheridan realised he may never get the chance. Narn bodies were scattered all around him, torn, dismembered and ravaged, destroyed by... something that could be not human, nor Narn, nor Minbari. Ta'lon said something spoken in Narn to Neroon, who nodded. Sheridan spoke Narn and he silently agreed with Ta'lon. This was definitely not good. -------------------- Security Officer Welles felt a faint surge of satisfaction as he looked at his prisoner. She was ill, ragged and torn, the fire that had raged so brilliantly in her eyes reduced to a mere ember. Seven days of interrogation, starvation and telepathic scans had managed to do this. She was the toughest, the most stubborn target he had ever been given, but he was winning at last, and in doing so he was helping the human race. The same race she had nearly destroyed. Welles looked down at the notes before him. All other eight members of the Grey Council. Sinoval, Hedronn, Lennann, names, castes, details. Who would be a threat, who would not, who was likely to rise to power, who was likely to lead in a war against humanity. All detailed reports. A start, certainly. There were other matters to consider, troop deployments, numbers, army organisation, details about their technology, but these could wait. Welles had learned that the Grey Council had been violently in disagreement over the leadership of a secret army - the Rangers. What had Sheridan called them? "Part warrior, part priest, part secret agent." Their leadership was in doubt and it would take a while for them to sort matters out. Hopefully long enough for Welles to uncover everything he - and humanity - needed. There was a polite knock at the door, and it opened, without Welles saying anything. In stepped an attractive red-haired woman, wearing black gloves and a badge that spoke more of tradition and ritual than any real significance. Any meaning in Psi Corps had ended with Earth. "Good morning, Miss Alexander," he said. "You are well, I trust?" "Very well, thank you," she said, taking the seat Welles vacated and offered to her. The prisoner looked at her with eyes of pity... and despair. "Her shields should be considerably weaker this time. You may get quite a bit more information out of her," Welles was saying. "Don't worry about making sense out of it - that's my job. Just get out as much as you can." "Of course." Lyta Alexander removed her gloves and took - gently and without force - the hands of Satai Delenn. Welles watched as Lyta closed her eyes slowly, in concentration and Delenn closed hers in despair. "She's thinking about someone. A Minbari. One of these Rangers. He saved her life once and she... she had feelings for him. It's funny but you remind her of him. His name... his name was Neroon. He left her, or she left him, or something. A bit of both, I think. They don't seem to regard relationships in the same way that we do." Welles nodded, his flawless memory recording everything that Lyta said. He noticed the slumped anguish in Delenn's bearing. "I can see the nine columns of light again," Lyta whispered. "The Grey Council, but... it's a little different. It's the war, I think. Whoa! There's some kind of tactical display, but it's like nothing I've ever seen before. I can... see it all around them. They're watching a battle. There's StarFuries everywhere. I... I think it might be the Line, but I'm not sure. There don't seem to be any heavy ships at all. "I... Oh no... it's Earth. They're destroying Earth. They're watching it die. Oh God, no! Everyone's dying... everyone's dying... I... I can't watch." "Please," Welles said. "Keep trying." "There's... oh my God... There's a Vorlon. She's seen one - a Vorlon! What they really look like. It's... oh... it's so beautiful... and so bright and so... oh!" "A Vorlon? What are they doing there?" "A... it's a bargain of some kind. The Vorlons know about the Rangers... even help them a little. Not much, but a little. They... they wanted something in return. A man... a human... a name... Valen. And... oh... it's so beautiful. Kosh... that's its name. Kosh. The Vorlon's called Kosh. He... that's impossible. I'm not alone here. Kosh... Kosh knows I'm here. But how? How? Oh... so... beautiful!" Lyta's head snapped back and her eyes opened. They were rolled back into her head. She swayed and fell from her chair. Welles rushed forward to catch her. She was still and, for a moment, Welles was afraid that whatever she had seen had killed her. She moved however, and managed to haul herself back into the chair. "That was... that was... incredible," Lyta whispered. "The Vorlon... it was so... so..." "You saw the Battle of the Line?" Welles asked. Lyta nodded. "She was there? She was definitely there?" "Yes. She was guiding things. Not quite a leader, but something similar." "Right. Thank you, Miss Alexander. If you can try and work out exactly what it was you saw, and then deliver a full report to me whenever you're ready. Mr. Cutter, please escort Miss Alexander back to her quarters." Cutter nodded and there was a gleam in his eye that said he wouldn't mind escorting Miss Alexander into her quarters as well. Welles sat back in his chair and looked at Delenn. He yawned and stretched. He hadn't slept for over a day. Delenn hadn't slept for longer. "Sleep deprivation," Welles said. "It's one of our oldest interrogation devices. You become... disorientated, disturbed, possibly even hallucinate. Of course, it's difficult to guarentee that you never fall asleep, so that chair you are sitting in is especially treated. With a flick of this button - " Welles made an exaggerated motion of flicking a switch next to him on the wall " - we start a program of random electric shocks through that chair. None large enough to be fatal, or even much more than a mild irritant." Delenn started and gasped. "They come at random intervals, between one and five minutes in length. They will of course, prevent you sleeping, or concentrating long enough to meditate properly. Unfortunately, I am afraid that I need to sleep, and so I will have to go and rest. Mr. Boggs? I trust you. Keep her safe, and keep her in that chair. Don't hurt her unless it is absolutely necessary, and call me if there is a problem." Security Officer Boggs nodded. Welles rose from his seat and made his way to the door. As he reached it, Delenn spoke. "The word you tried to avoid saying... was... torture," she rasped. Her voice was hoarse. "Were this your capital, and I in your place, would I be any better off than you?" She nodded her head and then cried out as another shock hit her. "Think on it this way. Satai Delenn. If you do not sleep, than you canot dream. I wish that were true of me. A pleasant rest, Satai Delenn. Mr. Boggs." And then Welles was gone. Delenn looked up at her sole guardian and almost wept at his quiet impassiveness. She remembered how he had hurt her, beating and kicking her. He had enjoyed it, but he had not done so for that alone. He had done so for the good of his people. He only wanted to serve his people and his home. *Valen's Name* she thought. *What have we created? What have I done?* --------------------- Ta'lon knelt beside the body and looked at it slowly, studying the horrific damage done to it. Rising, he looked around at the others, scattered and ravaged. He was silent. Standing beside him, Neroon was whispering something about Valen. Marcus was hunched over, retching loudly. And Sheridan... he was simply standing, dumbfounded. It reminded him of Vega 7, but not even the deaths there had touched him like these. These bodies had been torn apart, literally ripped almost limb from limb. Sheridan had little fondness for Narns, but nobody deserved this, not even Minbari. "What could have done this?" Marcus asked. He looked pale. "You should know," replied Neroon. He had extended his fighting pike - similar to the one Susan had taken from Delenn. "You've seen them before." "The black ship? The ship that screamed?" "More or less." Ta'lon was still looking around warily. "This was one of their servants. A Warrior, I think." Without saying anything further, he and Neroon began walking quickly towards the small compound that nestled at the head of the valley. It looked like a mixture of a temple and a castle, and Sheridan knew that this was where G'Kar lived, and ran his collection of agents. Was this the work of Susan's friends? Of humanity's last hope? Why would they...? No, this was an internal matter, them against G'Kar. They wouldn't turn against humanity. What reason would they have to? Still, Susan had said that her friends were moving slowly, anxious not to turn attention to themselves. Was G'Kar really that much of a threat that they would risk possibly alerting themselves to others like this? Sheridan took out his PPG and began running to catch up with Neroon and Ta'lon. Marcus was beside him, the expression of disgust and terror replaced with a cold anger. Perhaps Neroon and Ta'lon were right and Marcus had seen these creatures before, at Vega 7. Too many questions, and not enough answers. There were never enough answers. ---------------------- Commander David Corwin was irritated. He did not like Narns, he did not like their homeworld and he did not like hanging around on the Babylon. He was doing far too much of that recently, just hanging around while the Captain was off somewhere. This was worse than usual, however. The Captain had not been heard of in over a day. He hadn't responded when Corwin had tried to make his daily report. Councillor Na'toth had simply said that Sheridan had left G'Khamazad on an intelligence mission and that he would return in a few days. Corwin wasn't sure if he trusted her, but he was wise enough not to say that to her face, even over a commscreen. The last time he'd left the Captain alone on a Narn-ruled world, the Captain had been captured. Someone in the kHa'Ri had been responsible, and Corwin wasn't naive enough not to suppose that the same thing had hapopened again. He was keeping a close eye out for any sign of Minbari cruisers, but the only traffic had been usual Narn stuff. He had also sent small teams down to the planet to try and investigate. He'd heard back from none of them yet. "Commander!" spoke up Lieutenant Franklin. "There's a private message for you. It's from Miss Ivanova." "Susan!" Susan had gone down to the planet with Sheridan and Marcus. She hadn't been heard of since yesterday either. If Corwin ran to his ready room a little faster than was safe or appropriate for one of his rank, no one commented on it. What had been between him and Susan was over, right? It had ended when she died. Corwin slid into his seat in the ready room and activated the viewscreen. Susan's face stared out at him. He resisted an urge to simply gaze into her beauty and focussed on what he had to say. This was important. It concerned the Captain. "What's been happening?" he asked. "Councillor Na'toth said..." "Whatever Councillor Na'toth said, it was probably a lie," Susan interjected. "I don't know what happened, but she set John up. He's no longer in G'Khamazad, I'm certain of it, but I know he's alive." "You know? How?" "I..." She looked pained. "I can't go into it. I just know. I'll try and track him down. I don't think there are any Minbari involved this time. It's probably something political with the kHa'Ri. Maybe they aren't willing to shelter us any more. Don't worry, David, I'll do what I can. Please don't come down. You're safe up there. You won't be down here." "Susan! I... be careful." She smiled. "Thank you. You too. I'll keep in contact as often as I can. Out." Susan switched off her commscreen and looked around her in anger and sorrow. Beside her, a shadow moved. ------------------ G'Kar knew that he was dying, that the Enemy had at last come for him. He could have asked questions, about how they had found him, about how they knew about them, about how he was still alive, but questions were pointless at the moment. What mattered was survival, not just his, but the survival of all he had built. He fingered his wound gently and gingerly. He seemed to be getting older. A small injury like this had never hurt him back when he was fighting the Centauri. Or had it? Was a war of attrition like that preferrable to a silent, secret war like this? "G'Quan guide me," he whispered, as he ducked into the shadows of his spartan room. The Book of G'Quan lay on the table across the room. He looked at it longingly and began to whisper the words found within. "There is a greater darkness than the one we fight..." He had wounded the beast, that he knew. That was how he was still alive. The knife had been dropped somewhere, during his flight. The beast, it could be anywhere. G'Kar had recognised it from its brief moment of visibility as one of the servants of the Enemy, spoken of by G'Quan. There was a motion outside the door, and G'Kar looked around, desperately for any sign of a weapon. His rooms were almost bare. Where was his ally? The Vorlon was around somewhere, but never when needed. Surely G'Lan had sensed the arrival of his old enemy. Unless G'Lan could not interfere. Yes, maybe that was it. Maybe this was a test for G'Kar, a trial to see whether he was worthy to face the Enemy. There was a shimmering as the beast came through the walls, and G'Kar rolled aside, wincing at the pain from his wound. He could dimly see the outline of the Shadow Warrior cast before him. It had no long range weapons, that was something to be thankful for, at least. G'Kar had hope. He always had hope. Grasping for the candles, he pulled one down. It was still lit. A poor weapon, but all he had. Thrusting forward with it, he forced the beast back. It issued a hideous roar. G'Kar looked up at its abominable form and whispered a silent prayer to G'Quan. It didn't work. The candle broke and fell, the little light it gave failing. G'Kar tried to halt his lunge forward, but it was too late. The beast caught him and tore into his side. An anguished cry of pain left G'Kar's lips as he was thrown backwards, his back smashing against the stone table. Tumbling to the floor, he looked up. There was the sound of PPG fire, and a cry in the name of Valen, and of G'Quan. G'Kar smiled. His prayer had worked after all. ------------------- Satai Delenn was lost in days past, remembering the war, remembering her cry. "Kill them! Kill them all!" Remembering the light in Neroon's eyes die as he left her side. Remembering the wisdom in Draal's speech. Remembering... She gasped as another shock struck her. Looking up, she bore Boggs, standing there silently. He was enjoying her pain, but he made no sign of doing so. Delenn grasped the edge of the table and tried to suck in air. Her breathing was harsh and ragged. She slipped back into the past. *"I have seen things," Neroon had said. "I nearly died there. I was alone, and afraid and thinking of you. Thinking of the third night of sleep watching, thinking of..."* Another shock, but too soon surely? Could she keep track of time? Could she even remember time any longer? Did it matter? *"G'Kar spoke to me. He said things. It made sense. He knows about the Enemy, Delenn. He knows, and he is making preparations. I always thought that we were the only ones who could fight the war that is coming. I was wrong. G'Kar is building his own army, his own agents, and spies. His own Rangers even. Most are Narns, but there are a few others - Drazi mainly, but even an Earther or two, and a few Centauri. *"Delenn, how can everything I believed in be so wrong? He knows, he understands. His writings... the Book of G'Quan, they have known for a millennium. I always thought that we alone were fit to lead the war. I was wrong. *"Delenn, I will join him. My life was sved by one of his agents and I must repay the debt. His words have touched me, and I feel a calling to his side, to serve him. It is a calling, Delenn. I have spoken with Branmer, and he understands. Please, Delenn, tell me you do." *"I..." She had been unsure of what to say, what to do. "My place is here." *"I know," had come his whispered reply. "I know."* Another gasp. She was so tired, so very tired. All she wanted to do was sleep. She could not find the peace for meditation. All she wanted was to sleep. What had Welles said? "At least you will be spared dreams." He had been wrong. So very wrong. *It had been a bargain, a simple bargain. One human life. What did that one life matter? Why that one? It had not been important, the Vorlon had said. It had not mattered. She had needed to be sure before she went to the Grey Council. She had needed to be sure and so the Vorlon had showed himself to her. Her doubts had receded, but now they returned. *One human life against so many. How much blood? How many dead? Why did the Vorlons want that life? *The other half of our soul. Sheridan and Sinoval... so very alike. Welles... how much he looked like Neroon, his voice, his face, his bearing. Sheridan and Sinoval, like a mirror. A dark, distorted mirror. The other half of our soul... humans? No, that was impossible. A blasphemy. *But she had been about to test it. She had taken a Triluminary, only now that was lost too. So much lost, and none more so than she herself. How many dead? How many lost? How many? *The other half of my soul. Neroon? Was he the other half of my soul? Who? Why did she not understand? Who? What? Too many questions and not even she had the answers. *Valen help me. Valen... I will not allow harm to come to my little ones, not here in my great house... Valen's Name... the other half of my soul... Sheridan and Sinoval... not here in my great house... the other half of my soul... Minbari not born of Minbari... the other half of my soul... here in my great house... my soul... not born of Minbari... my great house...* As another shock tore through Delenn's body, her mind reached a realisation that both terrified and disgusted her. She knew. Oh, Valen, she knew, at last. *A Minbari not born of Minbari... In my great house... the other half of my soul. *Valen was human!* ------------------- Sheridan had never seen a beast like that before, huge and dark and only faintly visible. He remembered somthing similar however, something equally dark and almost invisible, that had struck down Delenn. It had been a different shape - less humanoid - but it had been similar. All too similar. The thought faded and he saw only battle. His initial PPG blasts had little effect on the creature, but they were serving to distract it from the Narn who lay, bleeding, on the floor. G'Kar? Almost certainly. The beast turned to face Sheridan and he caught a sudden, frantic grasp of his own mortality. It was a terrifying moment, but one he had seen countless times before, whenever he was in battle. The beast lunged forward, and Sheridan fired. Again, the blasts had no effect, and his legs coiled, ready to propel him out of the way. He had not guessed how fast the thing would be. It smashed into his side and knocked him back. He stumbled, and the PPG fell from his grasp. Abandoning the weapon for the moment, he rolled away and staggered to his feet. The beast was ignoring him. It had a clear blow at his back and side. It could have torn him apart, but it didn't. It lunged at Neroon and Ta'lon, neither of whom had long range weaponry. Neroon lashed out with that metal pike of his, and Sheridan heard an audible crack as it hit the creature. For a moment, it seemed fazed, and Ta'lon lept in, striking with his sword, thrusting it into what would be the chest of the creature. Casually disdaining the wound, the beast clawed out at Ta'lon, lifting him effortlessly into the air and hurling him back. The Narn struck the far wall, and tried to stagger to his feet. Neroon hit out again with his pike, but the blow had little effect. Sheridan blinked, and his warrior instincts returned. Looking around frantically, he saw his PPG and scooped it up. Turning to face the beast, he unleashed a barrage of shots, at desperately close range. There was a sound that might have been a cry of pain, and the beast turned. Neroon used this opportunity to lash out, striking the beast with his pike, again and again. Sheridan dived under flailing - well, he assumed they were arms - and staggered to his feet behind Neroon, luring the beast into a position where Neroon would be able to strike his chest. PPG blasts, thrusts, lunges and blows. The beast was falling back. Neroon following up, but compared to the beast he may have been made out of wood. There was a blur of motion, and Neroon fell. He looked as though he were bleeding. Sheridan was fumbling with the energy cap of his PPG, and he looked up as the beast towered over Neroon. Acting on pure instinct, never caring that this was a Minbari, Sheridan dropped his PPG and scooped up Neroon's pike. Looking up at the beast which still seemed vaguely reluctant to attack him, Sheridan thrust out with the pike. The beast roared and tumbled backwards. Sheridan looked at the pike in mute horror, and found it stained with what he could only suppose was blood. He looked down and saw the beast, for one, hideous moment, in full visibility. He was nearly sick. Others had different concerns. Ta'lon pulled himself up from the wall, wincing at every movement. The force of his impact had undoubtedly shattered bones, but he seemed to pay it no mind. "Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar!" he cried out and half ran, half staggered forward. Neroon was also rising and looking to G'Kar. As did Sheridan. The fallen Narn was not moving, not even breathing. -------------------- "You don't know it failed. G'Kar might be dead. He might never recover. Sheridan? Yes, I know... look... he's a warrior. He's trained to fight, so of course he'd fight the Warrior. No... no... he can still be a valuable ally to us. He is still a valuable ally. It's just curiosity, that's all. He wants to know who betrayed him on Vega 7. "I'll see to G'Kar, if he's still alive, and I'll arrange matters with Sheridan. Trust me? No, you mustn't act personally. There's a Vorlon around, remember. Yes, I know! Don't worry. Everything's under control." Susan Ivanova looked down at the mass of bodies the decorated the pass leading to the temple of G'Kar, where perhaps its soveriegn prince lived, and perhaps it didn't. The Shadows had come to Narn. To Be Continued... From: Mr G D Williams Subject: Heeding The Warning Part 4 of 4 [AT] [MV] Date: Sun, 4 May 1997 18:11:01 +0100 (BST) Hello again. Here's the conclusion of the second episode in my parallel universe epic. Thanks to everyone who's sent me praise and encouragement. Feedback is always welcome and should be sent to csrcb@csv.warwick.ac.uk. This story is set in a parallel universe where the Minbari did not surrender at the Battle of the Line and went on to conquer and destroy Earth. It is recommended, but not essential, that you have already read "A Dark, Distorted Mirror". The time is early 2258. There are no Spoilers as such, but I am drawing upon all elements of the B5 universe in writing this, and people who have not seen up to the first third of Season 4 may be Spoiled. Legal Disclaimer: B5 and all related characters are owned by JMS and / or Warner Bros. I am making no money out of writing this and am doing so purely for pleasure - my own and that of the reader. Heeding The Warning, Part 4 of 4 [AT] [MV] by Gareth Williams, csrcb@csv.warwick.ac.uk Lyta Alexander was trying to sleep, but her dreams were disturbed. That in itself was not a rarity. There were very few in Proxima 3 who did not suffer nightmares over the fate of Earth. Lyta had thought she was over them but they came back with an annoying irregularity. But these dreams were different. They were not about the fall of Earth, and they had been happening every night since she had first scanned Satai Delenn. "I will not allow harm to come to my little ones," had said the voice. Lyta didn't know who it was, or what was happening, but that voice kept resounding over and over in her mind. "I will not allow harm to come to my little ones." But there was harm coming to her. Harm, and terror and despair. And pain. There was a woman before her. Lyta recognised her vaguely as Lieutenant Ivanova. They had met occasionally during the time Lieutenant Ivanova had been stationed with General Franklin. Lyta had always tried to stay away from her however. There was something in Ivanova's bearing, something in her eyes, thoughts that needed no scan to detect. Lieutenant Ivanova hated her, hated her with a passion and a fury that were almost tangible. Lyta had been puzzled, but had chosen to pay it no mind. Rational thoughts and reasons had ened with Earth. The human race were a very irrational people now. Lyta was seeing Ivanova again in her dreams, but this time it was different. The hatred was there as well, but this time there was something else: a mocking, sure certainty. Ivanova was shimmering into a black silhouette. There was a crackling noise, and Lyta turned. There was a flash of motion and an agony. Lyta screamed and woke up, her body slick with sweat. She was panting harshly, drawing in great gasps of air, almost too terrified to breathe. What was that thing? And then some hint of vague rationality returned. Those were Satai Delenn's memories - they had to be. Lyta had heard that Ivanova had been involved in Satai Delenn's capture. But what was that thing with her? Lyta had heard rumours about new allies for the Resistance Government. Were their new allies those... things? She suddenly swallowed harshly. She was not alone in her room. "Lights," she whispered, too quietly for the computer to detect. "Lights," she repeated louder. The room was bathed in light. And before her was a Vorlon. She had never seen a Vorlon before the memory in Satai Delenn's mind, but she knew what it was. The Vorlon before her was huge, clad in a dark green and brown encounter suit. Its head moved slowly. It was studying her. "Who are you?" she asked hesitantly. "Who are you?" it said in response. "What do you want?" she breathed. Its eye blazed with light. "Never ask that question!" A searing pain tore into her skull, and she screamed, clutching her head and falling to the floor. "What do you want with me?" she repeated. "What... do...?" "To watch, and to observe." "I don't understand. Why me?" "Your thoughts are the song. Your questions are the music." "I still don't understand." "No." "Will I ever understand?" "Perhaps. If you can find the meaning." "What meaning?" Silence. "Why have you chosen me?" "Your heart contains the symphony. Your spirit contains the destiny. The avalanche is beginning. The darkness is coming. You must be the light." "I... don't..." Lyta screamed again, her head thrown back. By the time the Security officials arrived - drawn by the sound of her screams - he was unconscious on the floor. ---------------------- G'Kar had been many things in his life. Slave, resistance fighter, hero, warleader, general, tactician, exile, preacher, prophet. Of all the things he was going to become, he had never planned on making corpse one of them. Not that he had any say in the matter, of course, but fortunately others did. Sheridan was pacing up and down, trying to work off the anger and depression he always felt after a fight. Captain John Sheridan was only alive - only truly alive - in the middle of combat. After combat he realised this, and hated himself for making this the situation. He could not do anything about it, of course, but he saw the sick joke behind it, and hated the joke for existing and himself for knowing it was there. Of course, being in the wilderness of the G'Khorazhar Mountains in the company of a living Narn, several hundred dead ones, one somewhere in the middle, and a Minbari and a human didn't exactly add to his good mood. He had the feeling that everyone was toying with him, using him as a puppet. Everyone from General Hague, to Mr. Welles, to Satai Delenn, to G'Kar... Everyone. "Is it customary for your people to walk like that?" spoke up a rough voice. Sheridan ignored Neroon. The alternative would have to a fight which would end - Sheridan was a realist after all - with him being seriously beaten. Neroon was sitting quietly on a rock, leaning slightly on his elongated fighting pike. He had been wounded slightly in the battle against the... thing which had attacked G'Kar. He paid his wounds no mind however. Typical Minbari. Always so bloody arrogant. "Did you know I killed over fifty thousand of your people during the war?" Neroon said in what Sheridan supposed to be a conversational tone. "I was at the battle you call the Line. I lead a part of it there. I was attached to the personal staff of Shai Alyt Branmer, greatest of our generals." "Well, by reckoning," Sheridan said. "I must have killed a similar number of your people. How many would have been on the Black Star? And then there were those ships over Mars... oh yes, two members of your Grey Council, don't forget them." "I take no pride in my actions, Captain. No pride at all." "Well I do. Because any victory, no matter how small at least gave my people some hope. I hear there was partying in the streets when I destroyed the Black Star. Why? All I did was lure your flagship into a trap. Nothing flashy, nothing special. But it proved we could win. It gave my people hope, and for that I'm damn proud." "I see. You realise of course that there is no hope for your people. When our fleets descend upon your home... and believe me, they will - then you will be slaughtered, down to the last man, woman and child." "And I suppose you'll be there. Right at the forefront of everything, just like last time." "No, actually, I will not. I will take no pleasure in it, and no pride, for the destruction of your people will mean that we have lost. The death of your people will mean we have been damned. We will be a dead people as well, but we will just take longer to die." "Yeah well. I wouldn't count us out just yet, you know. We aren't entirely alone, you know." "The Narns? What good would they be? No, Captain, we are all alone always. All alone in the night." "Whatever. Shouldn't you be looking after G'Kar or something?" "Ta'lon is doing that." "If he is, he's got a bloody funny way of doing so. I saw him limping off in that direction." "For the moment, G'Kar is alive. Whether he dies sometime today is at the bidding of other powers than mine." Sheridan looked at Neroon closely. Then he gave a soft chuckle and resumed his pacing. "You find something funny?" the Minbari noted. "You. What the hell is a Minbari warrior doing out in a Narn wilderness surrounded by Narns? If you were as important as you say, you could be leading your armies by now. Hell, you could even be on the Grey Council." "Perhaps. There would certainly be a place for me if Sinoval ever arises to the position which he desires. And certainly, if I was still on Minbar, I may even be Entil'zha by now. Branmer had named me his heir, after all." "So then? Why are you here?" "Why are you here?" "Well, if you remember, you, Ta'lon, and that lying bitch Na'toth beat the living daylights out of me and dragged me all the way up here. Or did you think I was here for my health?" "You are, and if you do not recognise that then it is your problem. But you answered the wrong question, Captain. Why are you here, now, in this place, in this time, in that uniform?" "I..." Sheridan hesitated. "I don't know. Does it matter?" "The universe puts us in places where we may do the most good. G'Kar told me that, echoing Minbari beliefs as he did so. I am here because I believe it is the right place for me to be. I can do more good here than I could on Minbar. Ta'lon also feels he can do more here than as a bodyguard or a servant in G'Khamazad. We are in the places where we can do the most good. Are you?" "I don't know." "Then you are not. I suggest you find your right place, Captain, and do so swiftly. Battle lines are being drawn. Oh, not between human and Minbari, or against Narn and Centauri, but between Light and Darkness. There can be no middle road." "And you're on the Light, I suppose?" "I would like to think so." "So then," Sheridan said, half jokingly. "Where am I? The Darkness, I suppose? Your enemy?" "You have a foot in two worlds, Captain. You are split down the middle, evenly. You will have to decide where you loyalties lie." "The same place they always have. With my people." "But who represents your people? Who among your people has the right to tell you what to do, where to stand, what to say? If your people are split, then where do you stand? To the Darkness, or the Light, or off the side, feigning an impossible neutrality? You may soon have to make a choice, Captain, and if you are not ready for it, that choice will destroy you." "What do you know about choices?" Neroon seemed to smile. "Let me tell you a story, Captain. It begins many thousands of years ago..." --------------------- The Minbari woman who, a million years ago, had been Satai Delenn of the Grey Council, blinked and tried to swallow. Her throat was dry and sore. She had lost track of time in this cell, but she knew she had not slept, or eaten since she had been brought here. She was afraid, and alone, and doubted her purpose. She even doubted her own identity, and were it not for Mr. Welles' often sarcastic use of her name, she would doubt that as well. "So, Satai Delenn, did you have a pleasant rest?" Welles sat down and casually flicked the switch that ended her elcetric shocks designed to stop her sleeping. He rested his elbows on the table and joined his fingers into a steeple, looking at her over the top of it. "Today, I need to talk to you about the organisation of your army. I understand that..." "I will tell you nothing more," she spat. Welles raised an eyebrow, in a gesture that she knew to mean sardonic surprise, even amusement. "You will have to take it from me by force." "I see, and what has brought on this sudden gesture of defiance, hmm? To what do I owe this pleasure of your renewed resistance?" What could she tell him? That she had experienced a vision of Valen, exactly as she had when she had been a child, alone and afraid in his great house. That she had uncovered something terrifying and terrible and impossible to believe. That she had uncovered that Valen was human. Could she tell him that? Or would the simple uttering of that belief to any other sentient being simply result in the final confirmation of her insanity? Or of her damnation? Of the end of her great destiny and holy cause? She had always known that if she died, another would stand up in her place, but who was that other to be? Sinoval? He was touched by the Darkness in a way that he could not see or understand, but the taint was there all the same. Lennann? He lacked the courage, and the belief in himself. Hedronn? He lacked the belief that he mattered. Branmer? He was dead. Draal? He doubted his ability. Neroon? He was... gone. There was no one to replace her, and with her loss, the Grey Council would fall, as the Rangers had fell, and the only hope for Light would be a Narn. "I could simply force the information from you, of course. Incidentally, I understand that Miss Alexander is not well at the moment. Some sort of seizure last night, apparently. She is recovering in Medlab, but it will be a few more days before she can return here. No doubt that fills you with joy?" "How can the pain of another living being fill anyone with joy?" "I don't know. You tell me. Did you feel joy at the conquest of Earth? Did you feel joy at the near annhiliation of a species? Did you?" "No!" "Oh, Satai Delenn. Lie to me all you like, but do not lie to yourself. You did, didn't you? But it was all right. You were mad at the time. Insane. You are therefore excused your actions, aren't you? They can be justified, explained away as no more than a fluke of circumstance. "Explain that away to the relatives of all who died there! How can you? How can you look at all those widows and orphans and childless parents and lie to them?" "I cannot," she whispered. "How can you tell them that you felt no joy at the actions you took?" "I cannot." "Then how can you say that to yourself?" "I... cannot." "There, you see. One more question. How can you live with yourself with all that blood on your hands?" "I... can... No. I have to continue. You do not understand. You cannot understand. I was wrong, yes. We were wrong. We were ruled by anger and hatred and fear, and we lashed out at those we felt were to blame. We felt you were to blame and so we lashed out, without reason, without sense or logic. "And now you are what we created from that madness. You are alone, Mr. Welles, just as we were. You are alone to your fear and your anger and your hatred. I have nothing to say to the widows and the orphans and the childless parents, save this only. "Do not follow our path! We were wrong. If you follow in our footsteps... if you make a pact with Darkness to satisfy your own need for revenge, then you will be just as bad as we were, and your mistakes will be just as severe as ours." "This... Darkness? Who is to say that it is not our Light? Our hope for the future. And who is to say, Satai Delenn, that we are fighting your people out of a desire for revenge? We are simply obeying the greatest desire of any sentient being: the urge to survive! Your people will destroy us. Oh, maybe you don't want to, but those you left behind will. We will take whatever steps we deem necessary to save our people! What gives you the right to deny us that one, simple thing - to survive!" "And how many must die for you to survive?" "As many as it takes." "You are a child, Mr. Welles. A frightened child lashing out at those you see as being responsible for your fear." "At those who are responsible for our fear. And that is you, Satai Delenn. Never forget that. Never ever forget those you killed, and never let their screams dull in your ears, for they will never dull in mine." "I will never forget that, Mr. Welles, but I will know how to use the memory of the fallen to create a better future." Welles gave a harsh laugh. "Look around you, Satai Delenn. This, this is your future. This one room. That single chair. Miss Alexander. And me. That is all your future consists of. Enjoy it while it is here." ------------------------- "There are beings in this universe billions of years older than either of our races. Once, long ago, they walked among the stars like giants, vast and timeless. Taught the younger races, explored beyond the Rim, created great empires, but to all things, there is an end. Slowly, over a million years, the First Ones went away. Some went past the stars never to return. Some simply disappeared. "Not all the First Ones have gone away. Some have remained, waiting for the moment when the Shadows come again. The oldest of the ancients are the Shadows. We have no other name for them. We need no other name for them. "A thousand years ago, the Shadows were defeated, driven out from their homeworld of Z'Ha'Dum, out on the Rim, by a coalition of races. It was the last time the First Ones had walked openly among us. Awaiting the fulfillment of prophecy, we have been preparing ourselves for the day when the Shadows returned to Z'Ha'Dum. "We first uncovered evidence that the Shadows were returning shortly after the attack on your homeworld. We uncovered a vessel of the Enemy's buried deep under the soil of your red planet. It sent out a beacon to Z'Ha'Dum, and we destroyed it. "There was another Shadow vessel hidden in your solar system, hidden in a moon of your largest planet. That one also awoke, and the Shadows sent a ship to retrieve it. We were waiting, and we were defeated. Four of our greatest ships were destroyed, with contemptuous ease. We knew that the Great War spoken of by Valen was coming, and we knew that we had to be ready. "And so we began to prepare. The Rangers, last formed a thousand years ago, were reformed, consisting of Minbari from all three castes, but predominantly the warriors. To lead them, we chose Branmer, greatest of our WarLeaders, but he was greatest of all in that he was a WarLeader with no love of war. He was admired and respected and led the Rangers well. As his aide, I was always at his side. I was a Ranger. I went out on missions, evaluating the power of the Shadows, gathering knowledge, creating allies. "Four cycles ago, I was on a mission to one of the Markab worlds. The Markab also knew about the Shadows, and they were dying of a mysterious plague. I had been sent to recover certain artefacts, which may prove to be beneficial against the Shadows. Others were there, too. Agents of the Enemy. It was a human woman, fair of face. There is an old saying among my people: Evil sometimes wears a pleasant face. "She knew what I wanted, and she wanted the same. We fought and I killed her, but there was something which resided inside her. The same beast we defeated today. It attacked me, and nearly killed me. I was left to die, wounded and alone, on an alien world. "But I did not die. I was saved by Ta'lon. He too was in pursuit of these artefacts, and he knew about the Rangers. He bandaged my wounds and healed me, and when I asked him why, he said it was because we fight the same war. "And then he told me. We were not the only ones who knew of the Shadows. Another did. G'Kar. He was gathering his own forces, in secret, paving the way. Ta'lon brought me here, to see G'Kar, and I experienced a revelation. I had been wrong. In my arrogance, I had been very wrong. We were not the right ones to lead in the war. Already the Rangers were falling apart. Branmer was ill, and I knew I could not lead. That would leave one such as Sinoval, or Kalain, and the Rangers would become a political tool, and not an Army of Light. "And I returned to Minbar. I spoke with Branmer and he told me that I must follow my heart. And then I spoke with Delenn, and we parted, and I came here, and I have served G'Kar and his dream ever since, because it is right. I have sacrificed my love, my rank, my title, but I know that this is right." Neroon finished his story and looked at Sheridan, who simply stared back. Delenn? He had known Delenn? And all this about the Darkness and the Shadows. That was who Susan's friends were. Of course, she had told him much of this, but what of it was true, and what was simply lie? Why would G'Kar fight the Shadows? Why? "I'm not sure whether to believe you," Sheridan replied. "Then by all means, do not. Believe G'Kar. When he recovers, he will want to talk to you." "He's dying. Can't you see that? Who can help him out here?" "He can." Neroon pointed and Sheridan turned. He started, and simply stared. He'd never seen a Vorlon before. -------------------- "There will be a price to pay," the Vorlon said as it stood over G'Kar's body. "He is dying. He will be dead. There will be a price." "It will be paid," Neroon assured it. "Yes," it said. Sheridan was not quite sure what happened next. The Vorlon's encounter suit began to open, and there was a blinding light. He staggered back, covering his eyes and when he opened them again, G'Kar was standing - unsteadily, true, but he was standing - and the Vorlon's encounter suit was closed. "Thank you, my friend," G'Kar whispered. The Vorlon made a gesture that may have been a nod, and turned. It hesitated when it saw Sheridan, and seemed to study him. Then it went away. "What... what did you see?" Sheridan aked. "What do they look like?" But before he could get an answer, the Vorlon turned to him again. "Learn," it said. A force threw Sheridan against the far wall. The Vorlon's eye socket blazed brilliantly and Sheridan felt the surroundings fade around him. *It was a dead world, barren and wasted. "Z'Ha'Dum." *"That's... that's the homeworld of the Shadows. But that's where... There's her ship. That's it, isn't it?" *"Yes." *"What's... what's happening? Oh my God. She's waking them up, isn't she? She's waking them..."* The image faded and Sheridan fell, slumped to the floor. "Why did you show me that?" he asked. There was no reply. "He knows," spoke up G'Kar suddenly. "The Vorlons know everything there is to know about everything. Welcome, Captain. This meeting has been long in coming." Sheridan looked at G'Kar. The Narn was hobbling, limping, and holding his side tenderly but Sheridan could easily see the force of personality within him. The same force of personality that had bound people like Ta'lon and Neroon and Na'toth to his side. Suddenly, the Vorlon moved again. "They are here," it said. Sheridan felt a familiar play around the corner of his mind. There was a sudden pain and he collapsed. He knew the Vorlon was responsible, and he looked up at it. "Leave... me... alone!" he cried. "They are here," was its only reply. "You must be ready." "Who are...?" And then he saw her. Entering the room was none other than Ivanova. "John, are you all right?" she asked, holding a PPG before her. A strange expression of disgust spread over her face when she saw the Vorlon. "What have they been doing to you?" "Nothing, I..." "Go," the Vorlon said, speaking to Susan. "He is not for you. Go! Now!" She opened fire. The PPG blasts were no more than ant stings to a Vorlon, but it simply concentrated on her. "Come on, John!" she cried. "We can't stay here all day." "But..." he whispered, and then another burst of agony tore through the forefront of his brain. "Go limp, Captain," said a familiar voice. It was Marcus. "I'll get you out of here." "Captain," said G'Kar. "Heed the warning, Captain. Listen to... what..." Sheridan had not heard him. Limp in Marcus' arms, he was carried away. Neroon and Ta'lon made to move after them, but G'Kar raised his hand. "Let them go," said the Vorlon. "He has a destiny. He will learn it. In time." "And what do we do now, Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar?" asked Ta'lon. "This place is lost to us," he said. "But we will rebuild. Remember our purpose." "Remember," said the Vorlon in agreement. "Remember and learn." ---------------------- It had been an uneventful return from the G'Khorazhar Mountains for Sheridan, Marcus and Ivanova. They had made their way to a shuttle Susan claimed to have been given by Commander Corwin. It was a simple journey to take the shuttle to the Babylon. Corwin had not been idle during all this. He had sent out agents into G'Khamazad, and tried to follow what was happening. The major news at the moment was the mysterious death of Councillor Du'Rog. The evidence of the black flower left in his quarters indicated that the death was a political assassination - organised by the Narn guild of assassins, the Thenta Makur. Who could have paid them was another matter. The affair of the large recent payment to his accounts from agents who could be traced back all the way to the Grey Council, and to Satai Sinoval's office, and WarMarshal Jha'Dur of the Dilgar, was not made public. Councillor Na'toth had managed to clean up her investigation in Sheridan's betrayal on Vega 7 with no mess. She believed it was merely financial in substance, and reported such to G'Kar. Any involvement by the Enemy was not recognised. Sheridan spent much of the return journey from Narn sleeping, trying to make sense of the visions he had been shown, and of the story Neroon had told him. Upon his return, he briefed the Resistance Government on the official purpose for his visit to Narn. The kHa'Ri had refused to believe that the Minbari were responsible for the assault on Vega 7, and they would lend no official assistance in a strike against the Minbari. Sheridan's private suspicions as to the fate of Vega 7 remained just that - private. Later, in secret, a more detailed and very selective version of Sheridan's experiences on Narn were relayed to General Hague by Susan Ivanova. He was left to wonder if the kHa'Ri would be effective allies any more. There was one other result of Sheridan's journey to Vega 7. A few days after his return, he sought out Satai Delenn in her interrogation room. Mr. Welles was not present - Sheridan having waited until that would be the case - and he found Satai Delenn alone with only a Security guard and her own nightmares for company. "Mr. Boggs?" Sheridan said. "Yes, Captain." "Take a walk." "Yes, Captain." Boggs did not like him, Sheridan knew that, but Sheridan did not care. He did not expect to be liked. Delenn raised her eyes, and Sheridan was shocked by just how ill she looked. There was a great fatigue in her eyes and a despair in her posture. She gasped and spasmed and Sheridan knew what was causing her pain. He switched off the electric shock device and turned to her. "How long have you been here?" he asked. "Since I brought you here?" She nodded. "Oh my God, what have they been doing to you?" "Questions," she replied. "Scans. More questions." Sheridan studied her closely. "How long has it been since you last had something to eat?" "Minbari can fast for periods of up to twelve days with no ill effects," she rasped. "We do so in times of grief or loss." "How long has it been since you last had something to eat?" he repeated. "Aboard your ship," she whispered. "Before I arrived here." "Eighteen days," he spat, horrified with himself. He activated his Link. "This is Captain Sheridan to QuarterMaster Chase." "Chase here," the QuarterMaster replied. His voice was quiet and rasping as ever. Did the man never speak up? "Bring one full ration pack to Cell... oh, what Cell is this? Cell 19." "But Captain, that's..." "Just do it." "Yes, Captain." The ration pack was soon brought and Sheridan presented it to Delenn. "It's supposed to contain all the necessary nutrients for humans for several days," he said. "I'm not sure what it will do for a Minbari... and it tastes horrible by the way..." "I am sure it will be fine," she replied. "Thank you, Captain. But... why?" "I don't know," he replied. "Yes, you do." "Yes," he nodded. "I do." And he had watched her eat, and drink, and afterwards, she had rested her head on her arms and slept, and he had watched her. And no harm came to her, not here in his great house. And no dreams came to her either. ------------------- G'Kar's preparations to leave his shrine were long. There was much to be done, checking in with his agents, receiving reports, the long, slow process of healing. Because of all this he was still there several months later, guarded by the Vorlon and by Neroon and Ta'lon, his trusted guardians. And yet his trusted guardians did not stop a mysterious alien visiting him late one night. "Come," the alien said. "You G'Kar, yes. You must come, yes. Must come." "Who are you?" G'Kar asked. "No no no, never ask that question, never never ask that question. But, I is being called Zathras, and I is being very honoured to being meeting with you, yes." "What do you want?" "No no no, never being asking that question either." "Of course not." G'Kar was surfacing to some degree of wakefulness now. "Well, what can I do for you?" "You must come with Zathras, yes. Varn send us all to look, yes. Varn tell Zathras to find G'Kar. Zathras look, Zathras travel, and now Zathras is being finding G'Kar. Yes. Zathras did well, yes, and now G'Kar must come with Zathras, yes. Is being very important." "Go with you? Where?" "The Great Machine, of course. Yes yes. The Great Machine." Not The End. Next: Warrior Souls A one-shot. Sheridan tries to make sense of what happened to him on Narn, and how that relates to Delenn, Lyta Alexander has a mission and the Resistance Government makes a dark decision.