Volume 3:  A Line in the Sand Part I:  The One and the Nine




Chapter 3


"IT was not meant to be such a terrible thing.  The reasons at the start were many, and few.  Anger.  Hatred.  Error.  So many things could have changed in so many ways had there been but a mere moment between question and answer, between choosing and choice.
      "I suppose that must sound like nothing more than a platitude.  I understand why it must seem so, but it is the truth.  None of us had any idea at the time....  None of us would for many years after.  Some of us still do not.
      "I could hardly bear to be present, and yet there was a tiny cord of hope that made me think I could undo what I had begun.  The words of the Vorlons were foremost in my mind.  The truth points to itself.  Perhaps there could be a miracle.  Perhaps something would happen that none of us had imagined.
      "There was no miracle."
      Delenn's words fell on a hollow and silent Hall.  The cold mists of the Dreaming lapped around her, and but for the gentle pressure of John's fingers on hers, and the soft touch of Lyta in her mind, she was alone.
      The images returned.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

The Hall of the Grey Council, the Past.
      Delenn stretched out her arm.  "Very well, then."  Coplann's words hung in the air.  "Choose, but quickly.  We are fast running out of candidates."  The other Satai did not seem to care, except Shakiri.  He cared too much.
      A ship caught her eye as the Vorlon's words returned to her. 
The truth points to itself.  Her arm rose towards that ship, but a sudden blast of energy tore the fighter from its course, sending it spinning away and out of her sight.
      There was another, leading a small group of similar ships.  That did not feel right, but it was there.
      "That one," she said, damning a planet to destruction.
      "Very well," acknowledged Coplann.
      In the circle of light at the centre of the nine, in the place that had once been Dukhat's, there appeared an image.  Sinoval, dressed in sharp, black warrior garb.  He made a perfunctory gesture of respect.
      "We have Earth in our sights," he reported.  "The
Trigati is behind their defences and those.... satellites have been destroyed.  Do we proceed with the orbital bombardment?"
      Delenn looked away, unwilling to recognise his face.  She did not want to be the one to give this order.  Anyone else, but not her.
      The hesitation was clearly annoying Sinoval.  He had ever been one to know his next action before he had finished this one.  "My orders?" he asked.  "Shai Alyt Branmer and the
Dogati have destroyed the last capital ship remaining.  At least one of them has fled.  Their homeworld is within sight.  What are our orders?"
      The Grey Council was silent, staring out across the skies.
      "Satai," barked Sinoval.  "Shai Alyt Branmer may be willing to jump at your every beck and call, but I am not.  I repeat.  Their homeworld is in our sights.  What are your orders?"
      Such arrogance was unwelcome and presumptuous, but Sinoval would be able to get away with far more.  He was the rising star of the warrior caste and they would forgive him much.  And if the worker or religious castes objected?  Well, then, the warriors were in ascendance at the moment.  As they never stopped reminding everyone, it was they who were fighting and dying in this war.
      All eyes waited on Delenn.  She would not give the order.  She could not.
      Shakiri threw back his hood, his harsh, proud face almost glowing above his neat, sharply-pointed beard.  "Destroy the planet, Sinoval.  Begin orbital bombardment."
      The image of Sinoval bowed.  "Yes, Satai Shakiri."
      "No!" snapped another Satai, an old, old man, with a fire which belied his fragile appearance.  Jenimer, speaking before this audience for virtually the first time since the death of Dukhat.  Jenimer's old, wise eyes looked around the circle.  Shakiri was staring at him, the others were silent.  Even Delenn was silent.  "No," Jenimer repeated.  "Remain in high orbit, and maintain combat readiness.  We must be ready for an attack from behind."
      "Our defences are more than adequate to deal with any further threat these Earthers can throw at us," snapped Sinoval.  "There is nothing to worry about...."
      "As there was nothing to worry about with the
Dralaphi," muttered Jenimer.  "Maintain readiness for any counterattack."
      Sinoval's image looked at Shakiri.  The warrior Satai nodded once and Sinoval bowed.  "At your command, Satai," he spat, venom in every syllable.
      "That one troubles me," remarked Jenimer absently.  "There is too much pride in him."
      "And since when was pride a bad thing?" asked Shakiri.  "He is intelligent, strong, talented....  He will go far, I am sure of it."
      A white-robed acolyte appeared hesitantly and whispered something to Delenn.  "The human is aboard," she announced to the Council.  "Shall he be brought before us?"
      "By all means," Shakiri said.  "Let us have this madness of yours over with, Delenn."
      "There can be no harm in seeing what we have been fighting against," Morann said.  "It is sometimes good to remember those we have been forced to kill."
      Shakiri laughed.  "Have you become a priestling, Morann?  Very well, let us see this Earther.  Let Delenn satisfy her curiosity and Morann his religion.  And then.... well, and then we can destroy them utterly and return to our home.  Justice will have been served."
      "And where is the justice here?" Jenimer said softly.  "No, Dukhat would not have wanted this."
      "Dukhat is dead, old man!  And his ways are dead with him!"
      Delenn turned her gaze from Shakiri's hate-filled rantings, to the white-robed acolytes who led in the first human most of the Grey Council had so far seen.  He looked.... unremarkable.  Delenn sighed.  The miracle she had hoped for had not come.  Surely there could be no salvation, no redemption from this pitiful figure?
      He was saying something, speaking.  Delenn alone of the Grey Council knew something of the human's language - learned from Centauri mediators.  She heard his rambled words, and could find no salvation therein.
      "My name.... is Andrew Denmark....  Flight lieutenant....  Serial number....  My name.... is.... Andrew.... Denmark...."

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Sinclair's Past.
      I had tried to ram the great ship before me.  I had no idea of what ship it was, of who it contained, of its significance.  All I knew was that it had destroyed my friends, and that I was going to die.
      My attempt at suicide had failed.  A stray blast, not uncommon in a battle, struck me off course.  It blew up my engines, and affected my navigation.  I was blown away, my enhanced speed only taking me further from my course.
      Still conscious, I spun there, helpless to move, to breathe, to do anything but watch.  Radio was destroyed, navigation was destroyed, engines were down.
      I hung there, suspended in space, and watched as the pitiful remnants of my fleet were destroyed.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

The Hall of the Grey Council, the Past.
      The human kept repeating those same words, over and over again.  Only Delenn could understand them, and she had stopped listening.  The tortures inflicted on the human were many, ranging from the subtle to the direct.  None of it mattered.  None of the Council actually wanted information from this.... Andrew.... Denmark.
      They wanted only to hurt him.
      Finally, Delenn stormed from the Hall.
      "The truth points to itself," she whispered, once she was sure she was out of earshot of the acolytes.  "The truth points to itself.  There is no truth here.  There is nothing.  We have failed.  Valen's Name, where did it all go wrong?"
      She looked up sharply, hearing heavy footsteps coming down the Hall.  It was Sinoval again, a dark fury in his expression.  Delenn straightened herself, and blocked the entrance to the Hall.  Sinoval was in many ways the worst of the new breed of warrior caste.  Concerned only with glory and honour over what glory and honour were meant to serve.
      He made another gesture of respect, this one even more perfunctory than before.  "I request an audience with the Grey Council," he said.
      "Why have you left your command?" Delenn asked firmly.
      "Because there is little to command," he replied.  "The
Trigati is sitting there.  There are no Earther ships, there are no Earther satellites.  We are floating above a defenceless world, and I am wondering why my orders are to sit and wait.  If that is what the Grey Council requests of me, then I may as well be replaced by a statue and return to Minbar!  You have been refusing to answer my requests, and you have been refusing to justify your orders.  Hor Alyt Kalain is more than capable of keeping the Trigati in high orbit.  As indeed is any member of my crew.
      "Tell me, Satai, am I to receive any justification, any rationalisation.... anything at all?"
      Delenn fixed him with her darkest stare.  "Have you quite finished?" she asked sternly.
      "I am not intimidated by power of rank," he replied.  "I respect only power of the soul.  I wish entry."
      "You are to return to your ship and remain there until we issue orders to Shai Alyt Branmer, who will then pass them on to you.  You...."
      Delenn started, as Coplann came up behind her.  Sinoval looked at the warrior Satai with what might have been a hint of respect.
      "Delenn," Coplann said carefully, not seeming to notice that Sinoval was there.
      "Report me if you wish," she sighed, "but I have seen more death than anyone should ever have to see.  I will see no more."
      "Delenn, I...."
      "If you wish to conduct the final destruction of Earth, I will not watch.  I will...."
      "Delenn!  There is something.... unusual.  Something that we cannot explain.  We were using the Triluminary to probe the human and....  We.... discovered.... something."
      There was something in his voice.  A hint that whatever he had discovered had unnerved him.  Something unexpected, a surprise.  Delenn's heart began to quicken.  Perhaps here was the miracle she had prayed for.  The truth points to itself.  Perhaps it did here, at last.
      "Show me," she said, gesturing for Coplann to precede her into the Hall.  Behind them, uninvited and unbidden, but coming anyway, was Sinoval.
      The seven Satai there were gathered in a knot, whispering frantically to each other.  The human was paralysed in the centre of the circle.  He was continuing to ramble the same message.  Shakiri was looking at him with a distinct and almost palpable hatred.
      "What is it?"Delenn asked.  "What have you found?"
      "We were using the Triluminary," Coplann explained.  "A means of verifying the thoughts within his mind.  But...."  He swallowed harshly.  "But it was blocked.  We believe this man is a psi.  A telepath."
      Delenn started.  "That is not possible, surely."  The truth points to itself?  "Telepathy is a gift from Valen, and the Gods of old.  How would the humans...?"
      "The Triluminary is faulty," proclaimed Shakiri loudly.  "It is a symbolic relic, nothing more.  No one has used it since Valen's day.  I said all along that employing a Triluminary was a fool's action."
      "Then we are fools," Delenn replied icily.  "But I would rather be a fool than a murderer.  If these humans truly have some telepathic powers, then there is more to them than we had anticipated.  Fetch one of our telepaths.  This must be verified."
      "What matter if they have telepaths?  Even the Centauri have some with psi-gifts."
      "We have not gone to war with the Centauri for the purpose of annihilating them," spoke up Jenimer harshly.
      "You do not see, Shakiri," Delenn said softly.  "If humans do have some psi-powers, then they are intelligent, sentient beings.  They have their own place in the galaxy.  They are a part of the universe made manifest.  They are not the animals we have taken them for.  And if they are a part of the universe, then we may have been mistaken in our efforts to destroy them...."
      "The universe made manifest," Shakiri snorted.  "Foolishness in the extreme."
      Unseen by all, Sinoval was slowly moving towards the human.  He had been following the discussion, but had not cared.  What matter whether this Earther was a telepath or not?  Sinoval wanted to see a member of the race he had been fighting for three years.
      He was not sure whether to be disappointed or not.
      The Earther was speaking in a language Sinoval did not understand, but in the language he did understand, he had learned all he needed to know.
      This Earther was a warrior, not perhaps with the skill of the Minbari, but by their own, limited standards he was a warrior.  There was courage in his eyes, a minor wisdom in his bearing, hints of suffering behind his expression.
      "My respects," Sinoval said softly.  Yes, they were barbarians, yes they were murderers, and he doubted they were much more than animals, whatever Delenn said.  But still, they were deserving of respect.  They had fought, they had died, sometimes they had even triumphed, temporarily.
      They were worthy opponents, to a point at least.
      The Satai finally seemed to notice his presence.  "What are you doing here?" Jenimer asked in a haughty voice.  "Your place...."
      "My place is here," Sinoval said, adding a belated, "Satai."  Jenimer hesitated for a moment.  "I have come to ask why I am to leave my ship in high orbit and remain as a statue.  Shai Alyt Branmer and I planned out this operation with you, noble Satai, in meticulous detail earlier.  Why are our plans not being followed?"
      "There are other concerns than your hurt pride," said Delenn.  "It is possible that these humans are a part of the universe's great plan.  If that is so, how can we destroy them?"
      Sinoval's face darkened.  "And if that is so, then what will you do?"
      Delenn hesitated only an instant.  "Surrender."
      The Council erupted.  "What?"  Shakiri.  "Delenn, I counsel you...."  Morann.  "Perhaps a treaty of sorts...."  Hedronn.  "Need verification...."  Coplann.
      But none of them spoke with the authority or the power that Sinoval did.  "Surrender?"  He spoke the word slowly, as if tasting it for the first time.  "Surrender?"
      "If we are guilty of destroying an aspect of the universe before us, we have no other option.  We will deserve the shame and the guilt that come with our actions."
      "Surrender?" Sinoval continued.  "And will you be the one, Satai Delenn, to stand before my crew and tell them that they have been fighting and dying these last three years for nothing?  Will you be the one to face the husband and daughter of Alyt Tashina from the
Dralaphi.... to tell them that her death was a mistake?  A misunderstanding?  A clerical error?"
      "We are not perfect, Sinoval," Delenn said, slightly taken aback by his verbal onslaught.  "We...."
      "You told us that this war was a holy one!  You told us that this war was right, was justified, was virtuous!  They killed Dukhat, you told us.  An unprovoked and murderous attack, you told us!  And now.... to complete your plan of vengeance,  for the past three years we have given up everything.
      "And it was all a mistake?  No, Satai.  Never a mistake.
      "I will not stand before my crew, before the friends of fallen comrades, before the souls of those departed, and tell them that their deaths were meaningless and we are to surrender.
      "I swear before all nine of you, before the One and the Nine, before Valen himself....  I will take my own life before I give any such order."
      A shocked silence behind him, Sinoval stormed from the Hall.
      Mere seconds after he had gone, Shakiri began to laugh.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

"And that's what you really felt?"  Sheridan's words cut through the icy silence of the mist.  Sinoval looked at him, his dark eyes patient, and far from surprised.
      "It was.  It still is."
      "And you never thought about who you were killing.... what you were doing?"
      "Of course I did.  I understood completely.  I was doing as my conscience and as my loyalty dictated.  I could not stand before my crew and order them to surrender.  I would not give any such order."
      "Well," Lyta said suddenly.  "You didn't need to, did you?"
      "No, as it turned out, and if this means anything to you, Starkiller.... I did not fire a single shot at your world.  Had I been able to, I would have, but I was not."
      His eyes narrowed.  "What do you mean?"
      "He is speaking of his fabled warrior caste honour," Delenn said softly, and somewhat sadly.  "Death rather than dishonour?  A sad waste.  At the time, we thought your promise was nothing more than a prideful arrogance.  We never imagined you would actually attempt such a thing."
      Sinoval chuckled.  "I did not."
      Delenn started.  "But.... you returned to your ship, and the next thing we knew...."
      "What you know and what you think you know are very different things, Delenn.  I came here to purge myself of a secret.  A secret I have kept ever since then.  This is the time for the sharing of secrets, is it not?
      "After I left the Hall of the Grey Council....

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Sinoval's Past.
      .... I stormed into the corridor, the acolytes scattering from my path.  I imagine my expression did little to comfort them.  They must have had some idea of what was happening.  I almost pitied them for their ignorance.  However painful the knowledge I would always rather know my course than be thrust upon it blindly.
      And speaking of the Vorlons....
      I was passing the door to the room from which I had seen Delenn emerge earlier.  For some reason I stopped, pausing in my furious passage back to my own ship.  I could feel the same.... presence there that I had felt before.  Something old, something powerful, something very, very alien.
      <Enter,> said a voice, speaking out of the darkness into my mind.  I hesitated at the entrance, looking up and down the corridor.  There was no one in sight.
      I did not want to enter.  I wanted to return to my ship and tell my crew of the idiocies the Grey Council was planning to inflict upon us all.  I had been away too long and had promised Kalain that I would return to them soon.
      And yet the voice spoke to me again, and an irresistible glamour fell across my mind.  Without entirely knowing what I was doing, I stepped inside.
      The door closed behind me, but I did not start.  My warrior's pike was at my side.  I had been trained well by Durhan, and I had confidence that there was little that could stand against me.  Certainly nothing here anyway.
      The room was dark, and my eyes had difficulty adjusting.  Our race has bad vision in darkness, a weakness I had recognised a long time before, and taken steps to circumvent in my own case.  I could see better than most, but it took even me a few moments to see the dark shapes moving before me.  Two of them, foreboding and powerful.
      <Who are you?> one of them asked me.
      I chuckled, their spell broken.  I knew what they were now.  I was certain of it.
      "I am Sinoval," I said.  "Alyt-Captain of the warship
Trigati, of the Wind Swords clan, of the Minbari warrior caste."
      There was a moment's pause.  Even to this day, the Vorlons are the only race I know who can create music with their hesitations.
      That was not a compliment, by the way.
      <Inadequate,> one of them said at last.  I did not know which one.
      "It is all you will have from me.  Why are you here?"
      A hissing noise, not pleasant at all.  <Do not ask that question,> one of them replied.  A very unpleasant sound.  If I were a poet, perhaps I could describe it better for you, but alas, that is not a gift I possess.
      And then the other one spoke to me, a kinder voice.  <We are guardians, protectors, sentinels.  Do you believe in us?>
      "I believe in what I can see, touch, taste, smell and hear," I replied.  "I believe in what I choose to believe.  Why should I believe in you?"
      <You have a destiny.>  That was the kinder one.
      "I know."  I shrugged.
      <But where?  With whom?>
      "I will find out in time.  Who authorises your presence here?  Satai Delenn?"
      <Speak when bidden to.>  The less pleasant one.
      "You called me here.  Why?"
      <You have a destiny.>  The.... I had stopped thinking of them as pleasant in any shape or form.  I remembered the legends of the Vorlons and I was becoming more and more convinced that that was what I was speaking to.  <You must be made to realise it.>  A pause, a long one.
      <If you are worthy.>
      "My destiny is my own.  I will reach it in my own time and when I am ready.  I am not yours to manipulate, or anyone's.  Why you are here, I do not know, and for the moment I do not care.  Perhaps I will speak to you later.  Perhaps not.
      "But let me tell you this.  I know who you are, and I may even know what you want.  I am impressed by neither."
      <Impudent.>
      I shrugged again.  "I am not impressed."  I turned and left.  Neither made any effort to stop me.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

"Smooth," Sheridan remarked casually.  "Very smooth."  There was a dark bitterness in his voice.  Sinoval was not surprised.  Listening to the events of the past, powerless to intervene, with no story of his own to tell or secrets of his own to reveal.... it must all serve as a reminder of the time when this past had been the present, and he had been equally powerless to intervene.
      Sinoval shrugged, a slight smile on his face.  "I was angry enough with the Grey Council as it was.  To meet with Vorlons and learn they were hardly the majestic benefactors of legend....  I was also angry that they had been here and that the Grey Council had not seen fit to let the rest of us know."
      "The Grey Council did not know," Delenn said.  "Only Dukhat, Lenonn and I knew, and the first two were dead by this time.  Why the Vorlons chose to reveal themselves to you I do not know, but if they had not chosen to make you aware of their presence, then you would have remained in ignorance."
      "Perhaps.  I already had my suspicions about the Vorlons, guessing that if they had not yet returned, they would do so soon.  You are not the only one who can read the prophecies, Delenn."
      "So what happened then?" asked the False Valen's companion.  "What happened to this.... Andrew Denmark?"
      "I do not know the specifics," Delenn said.  "But I was able to piece together some of what happened afterwards."
      "I doubt that you know the whole truth, Delenn," Sinoval said.  "Shakiri later relayed a little to me.  Not all by any means, but.... enough....  Enough to work out what really happened."

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

The Past.
      After he had been interrogated by the Grey Council, including the failed use of the Triluminary, the human had been taken to a holding cell while his fate was determined.  Delenn was being very vocal in arguing for surrender.  'Have we not already done enough?' she was saying.
      Her opposition was largely non-existent.  Morann and Coplann were having their own private doubts about the fulfilment of this war.  Shakiri had attempted to speak to them in private, but they would have little to do with him.  Both still saw him as an upstart, a neophyte.  The workers.... they were silent, as ever.  Only Hedronn was speaking out at all, and he was urging moderate caution.  The other priestl.... I mean, Satai of the religious caste.... they were divided, but were generally behind Delenn.
      It looked as though we were going to surrender after all.
      I was not aware of this at the time.  I knew only that I had to return to my ship, that I had to talk to Shai Alyt Branmer, at least do something....
      Satai Shakiri was elsewhere, busily doing something....

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Satai Shakiri walked through the corridors of the Valentha with the absolute certainty that what he was doing was right.  That was the character of the warrior Satai.  Never did it enter his mind that his actions might be wrong, might be immoral, evil even.  He just did not care.
      He had spoken of his intentions to only one person, and she was not on the Grey Council, nor was she, in fact, known to the members of that august body.  And yet she perhaps wielded more power on Minbar than any of them.
      There were two acolytes standing at the entrance to the cell which held the Earther prisoner.  Shakiri recognised both of them - warrior caste acolytes.  Both young, talented, ambitious.  Who knew what they could become?
      Both bowed their heads as he arrived.  Shakiri smiled slowly, and casually killed the first one with a knife blow to the neck.  As he fell, blood filling his mouth and incomprehensible gurgles reaching Shakiri's ears, the second acolyte moved, reaching for his pike.  He was young and strong and fast, but Shakiri had experience.
      The second acolyte died as quickly as the first.
      Shakiri casually stepped over their bodies, and opened the door to the cell.  He could see the human within look up, fear in his eyes.
      Shakiri could not speak the human's barbarous, infantile language, but the person he had spoken to earlier did, and she had told him enough for their purposes.  "Go," he said, in guttural Earther.  "Go.  Now."
      The human did not need any further prompting.  He staggered from the room and fled down the corridor.  He could not know why this was happening, or of the part he was playing here.  All he knew was that he was being offered a chance of freedom from a race he knew only as bloodthirsty, monstrous murderers.
      Shakiri chuckled dryly, dropped the knife he had used to kill the acolytes, and went to raise the alarm.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

"And Shakiri told you that?" Delenn said, looking at Sinoval.  "He.... told you...."
      "He had speculated on such a plan to me earlier.  I only spoke to him once after this, after all.  No, a lot of it I pieced together from what Jha'dur.... Deathwalker told me.  She wanted humanity destroyed as much as we did.... more, if anything."
      "How could she have been like that?" Sheridan asked, speaking largely to himself.  "So.... full of hate."
      Sinoval shrugged.  "We began the war because we lost one man.  She began hers because she lost her entire race.  I do not sympathise with her, but I understand her.  Hatred became her only motivation for life.  It was all she had to live for."
      "Shakiri was responsible for much of this as well," Delenn said.  "It is perhaps.... fortunate that he died at Mars.  Otherwise what else might he have done?"
      Sinoval chuckled softly, and then shook his head when Delenn and the others glanced at him.  "By this time," he said, returning to his story, as the images swirled up into view.  "I had returned to the Trigati.... and there I faced my second...."

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

The Bridge of the Trigati, the Past.
      "Well?" Kalain asked.  He was standing on the bridge, doing exactly as Sinoval had ordered, keeping watch, maintaining high orbit.  As Sinoval had said, any of his crew would have been capable of such a duty, but they would not have liked it.  Kalain was definitely not liking it.  In fact, he was sounding very impatient.
      "We are ruled by fools and cowards," Sinoval said, as he stepped on to the bridge, letting the column of light embrace him.  "They are speaking of surrender."  His words would be carried all over the ship, but he did not care.  Let them all know, let them all know about the people who led them, whom they had all sworn to follow into fire, into darkness, into death.
      "Surrender?"  Kalain sounded even less familiar with the word than Sinoval had.  "That is a joke, surely."
      Sinoval shook his head.  "No joke.  Fools and cowards, as I said."
      "But.... but.... that is madness!  The other Earther ships are still out there.  Including.... him!"
      "The Starkiller, I know.  We slipped past most of them easily enough to come here.  We have disabled all their defences here, and all we have to do is destroy that planet beneath our feet, and the whole reason for the war will be over.  We can return home.
      "But no, Kalain.  We stand here, and we wait.  The remains of the Earther fleet, including the Starkiller, are no doubt heading here as fast as they can, and we wait.  Our entire mission of these past years is in our sights, and we wait....
      "And our leaders talk of surrender."
      "Why?  What.... possible.... reason could they have...?"
      "They have suddenly discovered that the humans may be sentient beings after all, and as such it is beneath their dignity to kill them.  Foolishness."  Sinoval sighed, and he seemed to sink into himself.  "I will not give any such order, Kalain.  I swear to you, to all of you....  I will take my own life before any such order passes my lips.  It is a betrayal.... a shocking betrayal, and I will have no part in it."
      "Shai Alyt Branmer will not give such an order.  Surely he will not?"
      Sinoval shrugged.  "I do not know.  By Valen's Words, I do not know.  Remain here, Kalain.  I will go to my sanctum, and think on my vows, and on my duty.  If any order is given to me, for good or ill, I will.... take the appropriate action."
      "Your will, Alyt."
      Kalain's words hung in the air as Sinoval walked from the bridge, making for the sanctum.  Every Minbari warship had one particular room, a place where her captain could go and rest, and meditate, and think.  Sinoval had never been one for meditating, rested nowhere near as often as he should, and preferred thinking on the bridge, and as a result the sanctum of the
Trigati was woefully underused.  The fact that Sinoval was going there now told Kalain everything he wanted to know about his captain's current mood.
      Sinoval entered the room and let the darkness wash over him.  He raised his arms and welcomed it into him.  He liked darkness, liked the purity of it, and he was slowly conditioning his eyes to adapt better to it.  Poor night vision was a weakness of the Minbari, and Sinoval did not like weaknesses of any sort.
      Any other Minbari would have failed to notice the other person present in the room until they were dead, but Sinoval was not any other Minbari, and he realised just as the assailant's knife tore into his stomach.
      He reacted purely on instinct, barely noticing the agony exploding from his belly.  His pike extended the instant he drew it, and its swing, already losing its strength, caught the would-be assassin on the leg.  Not that it mattered.
      The attacker jumped back, and let Sinoval come towards him.  The Alyt could sense a hint of fear in his attacker's movements, but he could also detect something of certainty.  Whoever this was, he believed in what he was doing.
      Sinoval's knees began to buckle under him, but still he moved forward, seeing the silhouette of his attacker just before him.  He was moving too fast, surely, too stealthily to be Minbari.  Unless there.... was....
      .... more.... to....
      .... this....
      Sinoval crumpled to the floor, all the energy draining from his body.  His pike rolled from his nerveless fingers, and darkness of a much more fundamental nature overtook him.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

"What?" Delenn whispered.  "That was.... not.... suicide."
      "No," Sinoval replied, calmly.  Delenn could see Kats stepping slightly more to the fore, beside Sinoval.  Her expression was unreadable.  "I meant every word of my vow to you, but I did not attempt suicide.  The order to surrender had not been given."
      "And it never was," Sheridan said bitterly.
      "No, but that was Shakiri's fault as much as anyone's."
      "You are too kind, Sinoval," Delenn said softly.  "I could have prevented it, if I had been more eloquent, more.... convinced.  Perhaps...."
      "There are many possibilities, Delenn," spoke Kats gently.  "But that is all they are.  Possibilities.  The words of 'if only' hold too much power over all of us.  They should not."
      Delenn smiled softly.  "Thank you, Kats."  Kats bowed her head slightly in acknowledgement.
      "And as for you, my lord," Kats said, addressing Sinoval, "what happened to you afterwards?  You recovered, but...."
      Sinoval smiled.  "Obviously.  There was little which was miraculous or predestined about it.  I was attacked, but the blow was not fatal.  My major organs were undamaged.  I was taken back to Minbar after the battle and I recovered there.  Within weeks I was on my feet."
      Unnoticed and unheard by all, the Soul Hunters by the door whispered something in their native dialect.
      "So you missed Mars?"  Delenn heard John's words and could not tell how much anger and bitterness was held within them.  Knowing that with just a few hours more he could have made it as far as Earth.  A day or so, that was all.
      "Yes.  Some have claimed that it was my absence which allowed you to achieve the success you did."
      "And do you?"
      "I claim nothing.  You were the better man at the time."
      "So.... what about Earth?"
      "One word, again.  Shakiri.  He happened."

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

The Past.
      The Hall of the Grey Council was silent until Shakiri stormed into it.  Not all of the Council were there, many having returned to their private sanctums to rest, or meditate, or contemplate the issue before them.  Only Delenn had returned to the Hall, seeking an enlightenment there that she could not find anywhere else.
      "Treachery!" Shakiri snapped as he entered, startling Delenn from her silent reverie.  "This is what comes of hesitation, Delenn!  This is what your priestling sensibilities have wrought!"
      Delenn took a step back before she realised what she was doing, and then she straightened herself, a tower before Shakiri's feigned anger.  "What has happened, Shakiri?" she asked.  "What can be so serious as to cause you to barge into this sacred Hall shouting?"
      "The Earther has escaped.  He has killed his guards, and is free in this ship somewhere."
      "That's impossible," Delenn breathed.  "How...?"
      "The questions do not matter, Delenn.  How much has he learned?  How much does he know?  What if word of this should get back to the Earthers?  We must strike now."
      "No!"  Delenn took in a deep breath.  "We have been wrong, Shakiri.  Very, very wrong.  This war ends here.  There will be no more killing!"
      "There are two dead who would be alive were it not for your pathetic weakness!  How will you tell their families of their deaths, with their murderer unpunished?  It was you who began this war, Delenn!  You, and none other.  Do you even have the courage to finish what you have begun?"
      "No, Shakiri," she replied softly, but with steel beneath the silk.  "I have the courage to recognise a mistake when it is made, and the conviction to attempt to correct it.  This war is over."
      Shakiri was chuckling.  "So determined.... it almost makes me forget how weak you are.  What you say does not matter.  I have summoned the other Satai here, and it is for them to decide.  Now that they know that the Earther has escaped, they will continue with the original plan, Delenn.  Your weakness will not destroy us."
      "You are wrong, Shakiri.  You are so very wrong."
      "Am I?  We shall see."
      Ten minutes later, the full Grey Council convened.  Shakiri made a short, angry, powerful speech.  Delenn made a longer, impassioned one.  And when the speechmaking was over, only two columns shone with light in the Hall.
      Five minutes after that, led by the
Shoju, the bombardment of Earth began.
      Twenty minutes after that, Andrew Denmark was caught in one of the flight bays aboard the
Valentha.  Despite using his telepathic powers to the full, he was unable to avoid capture.  One of the blood vessels in his brain burst with the effort of trying to communicate with the Minbari, and he died there on the floor.
      A few hours after that, every living thing on the planet Earth was gone.



Into jump gate




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