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| Volume 1: The Other Half of my Soul | Part VIII: The Other Half of my Soul |
CAPTAIN John Sheridan knew all about hatred. He had been immersed too deeply in that particular emotion for his own comfort. He remembered the pure hatred he felt after his return, all too late, to Earth after the Minbari were finished. He remembered transferring that hatred to rage as he attacked the Minbari over Mars. He remembered the hatred he felt after his daughter Elizabeth - one of the most shining elements in his life - had been killed during the bombing of Orion. He remembered transferring that hatred to grief and anger, both so profound that he shut out his wife and left her to collapse into her own private abyss.
Captain John Sheridan had lived with hatred for so long. Recognising the hatred in the eyes of Satai Kalain was not difficult.
Sheridan and Kalain had met before, on the dying world of Epsilon 3. They had fought and eventually been pulled apart by the Narn prophet and visionary G'Kar, who had taken control of the ancient mysteries that lay within the planet. G'Kar was not here now, and Sheridan did not have his PPG, just a Minbari fighting pike. A weapon he had little idea how to use.
Sheridan understood little about Minbari culture and myths and the name Durhan was largely unfamiliar to him. He only knew that the weapon had once belonged to Satai Delenn, who had been given it in love by the warrior Neroon. It had been taken from Delenn by the Shadow agent Susan Ivanova who had wielded it for countless years until two different time streams had crossed on board the space station Babylon 4. Delenn had taken it back and given it to Sheridan, exactly as she had been given it by Neroon.
Kalain did understand Minbari culture and myths, and he recognised a blade like that when he saw one. Fabled across the whole of the Minbari Federation, Durhan's last great work before embarking on his solitary mission to the sea of stars, the nine blades had been given to those he deemed most suitable. Sinoval, current Holy One, had received one, as had the great Shai Alyt Branmer and his aide - and Durhan's pupil - Neroon. Some had been lost since Durhan had made them, but enough remained of his legacy.
It said a lot that such a weapon was wielded by a human, one who had done more to threaten the Minbari race than any other, one to whom the Minbari gave the name Starkiller.
Kalain struck forward, aiming fast blows at Sheridan's midriff and legs. Sheridan parried them awkwardly and stepped back. He still did not know exactly what he was doing, but how much could there be to it, he thought. Long heavy object. Your opponent. Hit the one with the other. There. Sounded simple enough.
Except that your opponent tended to try and stop you hitting him with the long, heavy object. After that it was a bit of a mystery. Hopefully, he would get another go.
Kalain rushed in for another attack. Sheridan managed to parry the first few blows and step out of the reach of the others. He even managed to attempt a vague and weak counterattack, easily parried by Kalain.
Pike crashed against pike, Kalain not letting up, driven by his hatred and his fury and his shame. Once before, over Mars, he had cowered before the Starkiller's approach, and the Grey Council, whom he had been set to guard, had paid the price. He would not let himself be so dishonoured again, even if he had to commit a greater dishonour to do so.
Pike against pike. Charge against careful retreat. Blood against blood.
Blood calls out for blood.
For the Dralaphi, for Shakiri and Shakat and Nur. For the Emphili and the Dogato. For Draal and for all of those who had fallen beneath Sheridan's hand....
Blood calls out for blood. Kalain's called out for Sheridan's.
Valen had prophesied that the Minbari would unite with the other half of their soul in a war against the common enemy. No one could have suspected that the other half of their soul would be the humans who were even now locked in combat with the Minbari, or that the two were uniting in blood, destroying each other in hatred and death.
Kalain did not care. Neither did Sheridan.
Neither cared about anything except for victory.... and death.
* * * * * * *
There was death aplenty in the ship of the Grey Council at the Battle of the Second Line. The Grey Council, which had stood for a millennium as keeper of Valen's prophecies, wisdom and legacy.... the Grey Council was dead. Six of the Nine lay dead. Rathenn and Lennann of the religious caste killed by the being known as Deathwalker. Four others slain by one of their own - Hedronn of the workers - driven insane by alcohol given to him by Deathwalker. Hedronn himself was hovering between sanity and madness, unable to comprehend what he had done, unable to understand the enormity of what he had been driven to. Their leader, Sinoval, was missing, and Kalain was in battle with the Starkiller.
The Hall of the Grey Council was now occupied only by the dead, and by two who should be dead. There was Warmaster Jha'dur of the Dilgar, Deathwalker, who lived only by virtue of her immortality serum, her life bought by the deaths of countless others. And there was Delenn, formerly of the Grey Council, now named Zha'valen by that very Council. Considered dead to her people, none of whom could speak to her, speak her name, look at her....
Minbar had fallen, its leaders dead, its fleet destroyed, its confidence broken. Outside, the Minbari fleet and the Rangers were fighting and dying, not having been given the order to retreat because there was none to give that order. Under Deathwalker's influence, the fleet would be destroyed. Delenn could not give that order.
The two were fighting then, not for any concrete benefit, but because they had stepped too far for them not to fight. Delenn was maddened by the death all around her, gripped by a terrible, terrible sadness, maddened by the changes in her body that she neither comprehended nor recognised. She was acting from pure willpower, pure determination not to let the deaths of Lennann and Rathenn and all the Council go unnoted and unremarked.
Jha'dur.... she was fighting because it was all she knew. From birth she had been taught that the Dilgar were the superior people. Blessed with greater intelligence, greater strength, greater genius than all the other races, it was only natural to exploit them, to use them for the good of her people. Last of her race, Jha'dur was determined not to let them go unnoticed and unremembered. Humanity would be her monument to the Dilgar. She had set them on the right path and the countless deaths of Minbari here at the Second Line, they would be the foundation that would take humanity to depths of terror and death that not even the Dilgar had reached.
Jha'dur and Delenn were nowhere near as unevenly matched as Sheridan and Kalain. Both had been trained well. Delenn by her love Neroon, Jha'dur by the greatest warriors in the Wind Swords clan. Both knew how to wield the weapon, but Jha'dur revelled in death. She was fit and competent and unafraid. Delenn was still a stranger in her own body, uncertain and hesitant. She had just seen friends die at the hand of one of their own number.
Delenn stumbled over Matokh's body and it took her a moment to right herself. While she did, Deathwalker simply waited and smiled.
"Why do you do this?" Jha'dur asked. "Why fight? What are you fighting for? Your people are doomed, dying.... your precious Grey Council broken. You are outcast, Zha'valen.... You have nothing to fight for."
"I do," she replied slowly. "I do." Her breathing was harsh. Her ribs hurt and her muscles ached, and the pain behind her eyes was almost blinding.
"What? Tell me."
"I fight.... because it is right.... because.... we must never yield, never give in to the Darkness. When we meekly accept our fall, that is when we are truly lost. There must always be hope. Without it we are nothing."
"I once heard something. An old saying. 'A man without hope is a man without fear.' You cling to your little hopes, aspirations and dreams. They will never come to pass. You will die here, alone, forgotten and unremembered. No one will care. No one will...."
Jha'dur suddenly started and looked up. "What?" She looked around her, a look of.... almost terror on her face. "No," she breathed. "Display!" Around them the whole display of the battle appeared. Delenn could only assume that Deathwalker had arranged to have it turned off while she killed the Grey Council. She had gone to great effort to blame the worker caste for the tragedy. That could not be achieved if anyone else knew the truth. Delenn did not matter. She would never be believed....
Delenn also looked around. The great Minbari fleet now seemed such a small thing, hemmed in and surrounded by advancing Shadow ships. She could see a human ship - the Babylon - attacking the enemy, but even with their help, the Minbari seemed threatened, outnumbered.... lost....
Except that they were not alone any longer.
All around them jump gates were opening and out were pouring huge mottled ships, green and red and golden. The Shadows were hesitating, doubtful about this new enemy. Delenn smiled.
"Vorlons!" Jha'dur spat. "This isn't right! This isn't by the rules! This...."
"They have come to help us," Delenn said. "We are not as alone as you might think."
"And what do you know? You're just a little puppet for them. You had one once, didn't you? Inside your head. It told you all the right things, set you on this path...." Jha'dur shook her head. "You know nothing. You really know nothing at all. I almost pity you."
"You are afraid," Delenn pointed out. "You have seen that your time is over. We are not as doomed as you say. There is always hope."
"You're deluded! A dreamer, playing with lives as if they're your own private little toys. You have no idea of what you do."
"And you do?"
"I know life and I know death...."
"And how to twist the one to the other? You know how to destroy happiness and bring chaos. I pity you. You are insane and you are alone, and what you have done today proves it."
"You pity me?" Jha'dur's smile widened. "You? You are just a puppet. You don't even understand the game. You don't even care. You will continue to serve them blindly until they decide to have you killed. What is your saying, the one you prate out so nobly whenever you have to get your hands stained with blood?
"'Some must be sacrificed if all are to be saved.' You were sacrificed. How does that make you feel? When you are the victim?"
"I will gladly give my life for the good of my people."
"Of course you would. And why? Because you want the fame, the glory, the honour of being the noble hero! A martyr! A messiah, even!" Jha'dur darted forward and lashed out at Delenn, who parried her blows awkwardly, stepping back slowly, always watching her feet. "What glory is there now? What fame? You are Zha'valen - outcast. This is your great sacrifice."
"This is wrong."
"So you say." Jha'dur delivered a lightning-fast blow to Delenn's head. Although Delenn managed to parry it, the force jarred her whole body. She swayed back.
"Who are you to say what is right and what is wrong?" Jha'dur spat. "The strong live, the weak die. What more is there to life?"
"Then your people must have been weak," Delenn noted. "Since they are all dead. Or maybe.... you are wrong."
Jha'dur delivered a noise which was almost a snarl. She lunged forward. Pike clashed against pike....
Blood calls out for blood....
* * * * * * *
Sheridan parried a blow aimed at his head as Delenn deflected a strike from her body. Sheridan took a step forward and forced Kalain to backtrack just as Delenn caught Jha'dur off balance and punished her with a blow to the leg.
Kalain spun on one foot and thrust his pike at Sheridan's neck. The Starkiller dodged and came close, inside Kalain's reach. Sheridan broke his pike up to strike Kalain's chest. The Minbari ducked back, half stumbling, half falling, and he brought his own pike back, holding it against Sheridan's, their bodies and minds pressing hard against each other's.
Delenn, her mind lost in training with Neroon, struck forward, knocking Jha'dur back. The Dilgar broke her pike up and struck Delenn across the head. Ears ringing and eyes streaming, Delenn lashed out. She heard the sound of her pike striking Jha'dur's and the Dilgar's brief cry of pain.
Sheridan and Kalain pressed hard against each other, locked in a corps-à-corps. Kalain was stronger, and fuelled by his angry madness. Sheridan was fuelled by something altogether different. He brought his knee up hard into Kalain's stomach. And again. And again. The Minbari jerked and fell. A well-timed kick knocked the pike from his hand, and in a moment, Sheridan was kneeling over him, a pike held at his throat.
Delenn had regained the momentum. Her eyes were still bleary, but she found she could sense where Jha'dur was better than she had before. She remembered her last lesson with Neroon, when he had blindfolded her and told her to fight with her feelings. She had done so, and lost, but only barely. A blow struck Jha'dur's side, a second merely pushed her back. It was the third that knocked her to the ground. Her pike fell from her grip.
"Well?" Kalain said, spitting venom from every syllable. "Kill me. Unarmed and alone. That is the human way, is it not?"
"Kill me," Jha'dur said. "I can see that you want to. I can see it burning at the back of your mind. After what I've done today.... I don't deserve to live, do I? So.... kill me!"
Sheridan hesitated, staring deep into Kalain's maddened eyes. Hatred.... it always ran so deep. Sheridan's own hatred had killed his wife. Would giving in to it here gain him any better result in the future?
Delenn hesitated, looking at the being before her. What she said was true. Jha'dur did deserve death, and yet she could not grant it. Delenn had never taken a life with her own hands before, and she could not do it now.
"You are a coward, Starkiller! Your victory was dishonourable.... all your victories have been dishonourable. But what more could I expect from a human?"
"You are weak, Zha'valen. Like all of your people. Weak and petty and foolish. And dying. You are all doomed now. And whether I live or die.... whether you live or die.... none of it will matter."
"No," Sheridan said softly. "No. I won't kill you. It may be the human way, but it isn't my way. Not any more. Where is Delenn?"
"No," Delenn said softly. "No. I will not kill you. You deserve death, yes, but you must be made to atone for what you have done.... as I have."
"I do not believe you, Starkiller, and I do not know that name."
"I do not think you can kill me, Zha'valen. Prove me wrong."
Sheridan grabbed the collar of Kalain's robe and picked him up. "You will take me to Delenn! You will take me to the Grey Council! This has gone too far, and I swear by God, it will stop! Do you hear me? This will stop!"
Kalain blinked and spat back, "It has gone too far to stop, Starkiller. Far too far."
"We'll see," he replied. "Now, take me to Delenn, or to the Grey Council. Now!"
Delenn gripped her pike tighter. Jha'dur was right. Delenn could not kill her. But, another could....
Deathwalker tried to rise, still smiling. She was still smiling when a burst of energy tore into her back and threw her forward, leaving her slumped over the bodies of those she had killed. Sinoval stepped into view, holding a human weapon. He looked at Delenn and met her gaze, and then he looked around at the bodies.
"Valen's Name," he whispered. "What.... have I...?"
"You should not have killed her," Delenn said softly.
"And what do you know? If I had killed her earlier, this.... this would never have happened." Sinoval raised his eyes and looked around at the display surrounding them. He could see the pitiful remains of the Minbari fleet, the Enemy that had destroyed them, and the Vorlons who had come to their rescue.
"Retreat!" Sinoval ordered. "All Minbari ships, retreat! White Star ships nine, fifteen and twenty-seven form a screen. All other ships, retreat! In Valen's Name, retreat!"
But it was far too little, far too late.
* * * * * * *
Tryfan closed his eyes and whispered a silent prayer to Valen. In the last few hours, he had witnessed the mightiest Minbari fleet ever assembled cut to ruins by the force of the encroaching Shadow vessels. At last the order to retreat had been given, but it would not be enough. Help had come in the form of the Vorlons, but it would take them time to get to the front of the line. Tryfan had to buy his people that time.
Behind him, the Minbari ships were vanishing into hyperspace. What was left of the Minbari fleet was departing. All they needed was a few minutes longer to get away. Then the Vorlons would be here and the Shadows would flee - unwilling to face their ancient foes just yet.
Tryfan would buy his people that time.
The White Star Nine - named the Valen - flew forward, directly into the heart of the Shadow forces. Raining fire upon the Enemy, Tryfan of the Star Riders clan brought the Valen and his crew to their destiny.
The ship was shot down eventually, but not before Tryfan had done enough. His last sight was of the Vorlons coming into view and the Shadows leaving. His last thought was that he had bought his people enough time after all.
* * * * * * *
And thus the Battle of the Second Line ended.... the Shadows, having done what they came for, fled before the arrival of the Vorlon armada. What compelled the Vorlons to meet their enemies like this, no one was quite sure, but it had been enough to save the remnants of the Minbari fleet.
The Vorlons left a few moments after the Shadows did. They said nothing, gave no reason, left no footprints.
Sinoval, Holy One of the Minbari, stood alone in the Hall of the Grey Council. Delenn and the Starkiller were gone, having taken a flyer back to their ship. Sinoval had barely noticed their presence. Kalain had arrived with Starkiller, but then he left, horrified at the dead mounted around him.
Sinoval was alone, as he always would be, surrounded only by the dead and the memories of the living.
He closed his eyes.
* * * * * * *
Ex-Minister Londo Mollari considered himself lucky to be alive. If it hadn't been for Na'Kal's sacrifice and the arrival of the Vorlons, he might not be. As it was, he made his way to the bridge of the Valerius, where his nephew Carn was in command.
"Uncle Londo," Carn said. "You are well?"
"Hungover," Londo complained. "But I have been coping with that for years. Put me through to Captain Ben Zayn." Carn obliged and Ben Zayn's harsh, scarred face appeared on the viewscreen.
"Minister Mollari. Come with us to Sanctuary. I'll transmit the relevant co-ordinates. Well done."
The conversation, such as it was, ended there.
"Well, short and to the point," Londo noted.
"Uncle, would you mind telling me why we are doing this?"
"I told you, Carn. A bet!"
"No, uncle. Really why."
Londo bowed his head. "To win back our people. We are a dying people, Carn, consumed by our own petty interests. If we are to save the Centauri, then we must work with G'Kar and his associates. We must risk our lives.... or give our lives, as Na'Kal did.... for the sake of the Centauri."
Carn looked at him for a moment, pensive. "Do you really believe that, uncle?"
"Of course not!" Londo joked.
Carn smiled. "Well, Sanctuary is as good a place as any, I suppose. Wherever it is."
* * * * * * *
Sheridan and Delenn walked on to the Parmenion arm in arm. It seemed as if they had never been apart since their reunion in the Hall of the Grey Council. Sheridan had been startled by the number of bodies in the Hall, but he had focussed his gaze on the two living people there - Delenn and Sinoval. The Holy One could not meet his gaze, but Delenn could not lose it. Not a word spoken, the two had left, returning to the Parmenion, leaving Sinoval alone to the death he had lived with all his life.
"Captain!" Corwin said as the two of them arrived. "I.... it's good to see you, sir. Just in time too. Ko'Dath was on the verge of killing half her squad as punishment for letting the two of you get captured."
Delenn shot Sheridan a nervous gaze, which he reciprocated. "Well, we'd.... better not let that happen, I suppose. I trust you've been taking good care of my ship, Commander."
"Of course! It's still in fine order. Well.... almost."
"Have you heard from Ben Zayn?"
"Yes. He's on his way back to Sanctuary. The Minbari got away, the Shadows are gone, and we thought it was a good idea to follow suit before the Resistance Government starts wondering just who we are and what we're doing."
Sheridan nodded. "That might be wise. What about the Babylon?"
"Staying here."
"What? Clark's bound to find out they were fighting against the Shadows and when he does...."
"I said the same, but Ben Zayn said something like it wasn't my concern and who am I to question Bester's decisions and so on. I don't know why and I'm not up to arguing with Bester. I do not like Psi Cops."
"They're not meant to be liked," Sheridan muttered. "But yes, I definitely want a word with Mr. Bester when we get back."
"I wonder if I did something dreadful as a child," Corwin muttered. "My mother warned me never to get involved with telepaths. Oh.... speaking of telepaths, we've got someone in Medlab you'll want to visit. Lyta Alexander."
"What's she doing here? I thought she was on Proxima trying to find Mar...." Sheridan paled. "Is Marcus here too?"
Corwin solemnly and sadly shook his head. "There's a Narn here as well.... Ta'Lon. He has something he says he has to tell you, Satai."
"Satai no longer," Delenn said softly, still looking at Sheridan. "I am Zha'valen now. Outcast."
Corwin looked at Sheridan and met his gaze. He noticed Sheridan hold Delenn just a little bit tighter, and he wondered what had happened to the two of them on that Minbari ship....
* * * * * * *
The battle's over, but I feel like it's still going on. And it is. The Minbari are practically broken now. It'll take them a long time to recover from this, and the Resistance Government won't give them a long time. I predict a few months at most before we start taking the war to them.... with the Shadows to help. I don't know.... I'm not sure I believe what Delenn's been telling us, but then I really don't like where humanity is going.
I hear there are celebrations down on Proxima at the moment. Under different circumstances, I might be down there celebrating as well, but I can't.... All I can think is how much this cost us. Alisa.... what it's done to the Captain.... and then there's Marcus, of course. It's funny.... I don't like telepaths, never have, and I barely said three words to Miss Alexander before this started, but it's her I feel most sorry for.
I can't help but have the feeling that she's been affected by this more than anyone else....
Commander David Corwin, personal diaries, March 1st, 2259.
* * * * * * *
"Lyta Alexander," she rasped. "Telepath rating P five, complete with Vorlon accessories, reporting for duty.... Captain."
She was resting back on one of the beds in the small Medlab facility on the Parmenion. Sheridan was surprised at the amount of bruising that covered her, particularly her neck. Her eyes almost seemed.... unfocussed.... almost vacant.
"You'll have to excuse her," said the doctor on duty. "We've given her a few drugs to relieve her pain. They make her a little light-headed. She's been through a lot. Broken ribs, near strangulation, head trauma, concussion.... and I don't know what she did with her telepathic powers but her brain readings are like nothing I've seen before. I'll have to get a better reading when we get back to Sanctuary."
"Marcus?" Sheridan asked. He had a feeling he knew the answer.
"Dead," Lyta whispered. "He's.... he's...."
"I'm sorry, Captain," the doctor said. "You'll have to come back later. She needs to rest."
Sheridan nodded slowly and left. As he left he thought he heard a musical voice in his mind.
It begins.
* * * * * * *
Speaking of telepaths, there's Bester as well. Now him, I really don't trust. He and Ben Zayn set us up, and the thing is.... I still don't know what he's doing or why he's doing it. Most people are content to have one private agenda. He has a lot more than one....
I'm not sure about the people he's got working for him either. I mean, I like Michael Garibaldi.... he seems like a good person. I wish I knew why he's working for Bester. As for Ben Zayn.... now there's a face I'd quite happily never see again. I don't know. Whenever I see him I just think of the Captain.... and how he might turn out like that. Not a pleasant thought....
Although if the Captain wants to work out a little personal anger on Bester, who am I to argue with a superior officer?
Commander's personal diaries (continued).
* * * * * * *
"What the hell game are you playing?"
"Captain Sheridan," Bester said, walking around his desk slowly. "I really think you're...."
"Just answer the question. You've known about the Shadows all along, haven't you? This.... all of this.... it's all to use against them, isn't it?"
"Who else can fight them, Captain? Oh, the Minbari have their Rangers, but they haven't been organised for a long time, and after the battle, they won't be again. No, someone has to hold the line, so to speak."
"Then why didn't you tell me the truth? Why send me into the middle of a war zone with no idea of who I was meant to be fighting?"
"You had to choose your own path, Captain. I cannot hold your hand all the way. We needed to be sure that your loyalties were in the right place. I must admit I was wrong about you. That does not happen very often, Captain. Enjoy it while you can."
"We? Oh, of course. Who else can order Narns around? Who else has Centauri.... Narns.... everyone working for him?"
"Well done, Captain." Sheridan stared angrily at the corner of the room where G'Kar appeared. He inclined his head and walked forward, through Bester's table.
"So, you're working for G'Kar?"
"With G'Kar," Bester corrected him. "I don't work for anybody."
Sheridan shot G'Kar a look. "And you trust him?"
"Bester has been most useful to me, Captain. It was through him that I gained the telepathic DNA I needed to begin creating Narn telepaths again. It was through him that I gained a second base of operations for my Circle of Light. Here and Epsilon Three. He has been a great help."
"Yes, and he'll want to be paid back as well."
"Worry about that later," Bester said smugly. "To all things there is a time, Captain Sheridan. You've done well. We've proved that we can defeat the Shadows. The Minbari will no longer pose a threat to humanity, not with their fleet destroyed and the Grey Council dead. Give us enough time and we can win this."
"Since when were you a tactician?" Sheridan spat. "You're going to regret allying yourself with him, G'Kar. Believe me, you will." He stalked towards the door and then turned. "And next time, come out and tell me what needs doing. I'm not a child, so don't treat me like one." He left.
Bester looked at the holographic image of G'Kar. "Better the devil you know?" he asked.
G'Kar shrugged.
* * * * * * *
And I suppose I'll have to get to her eventually. Delenn. Sometimes I think this is all her fault. Before she got here, things were.... well, not normal.... but certainly not this bad. I don't know. I'm probably just blaming her for nothing, but I still don't like her, and I definitely don't trust her. I've seen the way she looks at the Captain, and the way he looks at her. I could just be jumping at shadows here.... and God knows, the Captain still hasn't got over Anna yet, but.... what if she is using him?
Susan would laugh and say I'm being paranoid. Well, the old Susan would. It's funny, but I never was paranoid when she was around. I always felt safe then. Times change, all right.
I don't know.... maybe I am being too hard on Delenn. She did come back after all, although if what she said is true, then it was probably because she didn't have any choice. Besides, judging from her expression today, she got some bad news earlier. Some very bad news....
Commander's personal diaries (continued).
* * * * * * *
"We were on a mission to a Drazi colony at Zagros Seven. G'Kar has a small base there, using it to funnel information from the Non-Aligned Worlds to here, and to Epsilon Three. Somehow, Shadow agents had infiltrated the base, and the Shadows launched a full scale attack.
"Neroon.... insisted on helping the people escape. We were almost ready to leave, when we discovered one life-form left inside the complex. Neroon told me to get those we had helped so far away from the colony. I had just broken orbit when the Shadow craft arrived. The entire complex was destroyed. Completely. Not even ashes left. I.... I never saw his body, but he must have died. No one could have survived that.
"I.... He knew that this might happen someday, and he asked me that if he ever did die, I would tell you certain things. I know that Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar gave you a message from him last year and.... he said so many things. All Neroon wished you to know was that he loved you. That you were the other - and better - half of his soul. He was a good friend, and his death was.... as you would say.... an honourable one. He will be missed.
"I am sorry, Satai Delenn."
Ta'Lon rose and pressed his fists against his chest. He could not look at Delenn's tear-stained face as he left.
* * * * * * *
Delenn, I don't know about.... but the one person who's surprised me more than any other is Minister Mollari. Now very little can surprise me about this any more, but a Centauri here! Working alongside Narns! It's a wonder they haven't come to blows yet. I haven't seen much of Londo, but I have met his nephew Carn. An intriguing person, if a little bewildered. From what I gather he joined the military back when it was still ceremonial, and didn't actually involve fighting anyone. Well, if he wasn't surprised by having to fight the Narns, I'll bet he was by the Shadows. They'd frighten anyone.
As for Londo himself. Well, according to Carn, Londo is a very spiritual and religious person. This might have worried me, until I remembered what the Centauri religion consisted of.
I think he'll be fine....
Commander's personal diaries (continued).
* * * * * * *
Londo was drunk, and not just slightly drunk. He was bitter, angry and depressed drunk. He was also drunk on Narn liquor - which he loathed - the Valerius having run out of brivare! (And Sanctuary didn't actually have any civilised drinks.) On the other hand, Londo knew that he would have to do some major thinking sooner or later, and it would be better to get all this tedious drinking, passing out and throwing up stuff out of the way first. Although not necessarily in that order.
G'Kar may have just lost his chief agent on Centauri Prime, but he had others. Londo had just received one very disturbing piece of news from G'Kar, via Vir Cotto. Ambassador Refa had left Minbar and was returning to Centauri Prime. It appeared that Emperor Marrit had rescinded the various secret and hush-hush charges against Refa, dealing with minor matters such as treason, murder and having ambition that extended beyond his patriotism. Londo couldn't imagine Lady Elrisia having anything to with that. She hated her husband. It must have been Marrit's own idea. Who knew he actually had a brain, even if it did tend to work in the wrong direction?
Unfortunately it was the last thing Marrit ever did. It appeared the jhala he had drunk before going to bed a few nights ago had done horrible things to his stomach. A tragedy, of course, and the Royal Court was in deep and very insincere mourning. Lady Elrisia was reportedly quite furious, especially as the next heir to the throne - albeit through a circuitous family tree - was none other than Cartagia, who was also acquiring delusions of independence. And with her husband returning.... things were not going well for her.
There was someone at the door. Londo roused a little from his stupor. Surely he would not have to start thinking just yet! "Open!" he barked. "I am afraid I am a little...." He stopped.
"Hello, Minister. A pleasure to see you again."
"Mr. Morden." Londo started sobering up very quickly. "How did you get here?"
"I have.... friends in some very high places."
"Does Mr. Bester know that you are here?"
"No. I thought it best to avoid drawing any undue attention to myself."
"And what do you want with me?"
"That's a very dangerous question to ask, Minister, and an even more dangerous one to answer, but to try.... I'm here to help you, Minister.
"I just want to help...."
* * * * * * *
I still haven't quite come to terms with what we've done here. The Captain and I have been defending Proxima 3 for so long that I still can't accept the fact that we'll be working against them. I know that the Shadows are evil, and I know that President Clark has become corrupt, and the whole Resistance Government with him, but.... there are a lot of innocent people there.
I think, between them, Clark and Susan are going to turn humanity into something I don't want to be a part of any longer. I just wish it didn't have to work out this way.
Commander's personal diaries (continued).
* * * * * * *
"She's alive, and should recover," the doctor said. "Her injuries are not fatal, although they will keep her incapacitated for a long time and there may be some mental damage that we can't cure. She'll need to be on life support for a while, but I expect we'll be able to take her off it in a week or so."
President Morgan Clark looked at the slumbering body in the adjacent room. Susan Ivanova was alive. She had done a wonderful thing, freeing humanity from the shadow under which they had lived for so long. Across Proxima 3, there were celebrations and partying.
Clark's mind was already at work on plans for the future. His Keeper was content to let him make them. A little time to rest and recover, maybe start cannibalising some of the destroyed Minbari ships. They might be able to find out some details about Minbari technology. After that.... it would be time to take the war to the enemy.
But there were a few problems closer to home to deal with first.
"General Hague is dead, but then his performance of his duties had been slipping over recent months, anyway," Mr. Welles had reported earlier. "I thought we could promote his aide, Major Ryan, and shift any other duties among myself and General Takashima, but I have heard some reports about the Babylon's actions during the battle...."
"I know," Clark replied. Welles had known that Clark knew, which was why he had brought the matter up. "It was a simple misunderstanding, that is all."
"A simple misunderstanding, Mr. President? I hardly think...."
"What you think does not matter, Mr. Welles. There will be no repercussions for General Takashima's.... lapse in judgement."
"As you say, Mr. President.
"About Ambassador Ivanova...."
"She will be unable to perform her duties for several months at least. Her associates will be sending a replacement. The new Ambassador will be here in less than a week. We have nothing to worry about."
Clark knew full well about Takashima's actions during the battle. He also knew that she was not alone. Where had those two Earthforce ships come from? And what about the Narn and the Centauri ships? Takashima was a small piece of a much larger puzzle, and sooner or later, he would trace things back to their source.
For the moment, he was content to wait. He had time.
All the time in the galaxy.
* * * * * * *
"Delenn?"
"I am sorry, John. I just.... I was just.... I am sorry."
"That's all right." Sheridan looked at her. It was strange how much she had become a part of his life recently. He wasn't sure how much she had come to mean to him, but he did know that some of her actions had hurt him. Before he had been too immersed in the moment - the current actuality of the problem - to bother, but now.... he was winding down. He was lapsing back into an almost catatonic depression. Now he had time to think.... about Anna.... about what he had done and seen.... about what she had done.
He paused and looked at Delenn. There was a terrible sadness in her eyes. A dark and terrible sadness. "I'm sorry, Delenn."
"What for?"
"I'm letting you go. You don't have to stay here any more." She looked at him. "I.... what you did on the Parmenion. I understand it.... I understand why.... but.... everyone I care about gets killed. Sooner or later, and most of the time it's my fault. I'm.... setting you free. You can go wherever you like.... maybe even return home, if there's a place for you there any more. I'll mention this to G'Kar. I'm certain he has agents among the Minbari.... maybe one of them can manage something. I.... don't...."
"John? Don't. Please. Don't."
"I'm sorry, Delenn. I.... I just...."
Slowly she rose to her feet and glided towards him, placing her hands on his chest. "My place.... my rightful place is here.... with you. I told you that we were old souls.... and I told you that we belong together. I.... I have lost everything I ever thought I had, John. I know how you feel. I will not leave you. Through fire and darkness, I will not leave you again."
"Delenn, I...." She was so close, so near to him now. He could feel her breath on his cheek, see into the beautiful green infinity of her eyes, see her pain and her loss. She was right. He was the only thing she had left. What was she to do when he left her too - to fire or darkness - as surely he must?
Slowly he inclined his head. She put her arms up around his neck. He had lost Anna because he hadn't trusted her. She had lost Neroon because their destinies lay in different directions.
Slowly, hesitantly, their lips met....
Delenn suddenly shook and almost slid from his arms. He caught her as she fell. She was shaking, trembling, moaning softly.
He activated his link. "Sheridan to Medlab! Emergency! Get here now!"
He remembered the diagnosis after her transformation. She had left the chrysalis prematurely. Her human and Minbari DNA were not properly joined. Her body chemistry was too unstable. Sooner or later it would kill her. Sooner or later.
He held her hand. "Delenn! Delenn!"
She did not answer him....
* * * * * * *
"Look at me! Valen, look at me!"
There was no reply. The white mists of the Dreaming swirled all around Sinoval. This was the first time he had returned here since his vision of Valen.
"Look at me!"
The Whisper Gallery was silent. There was no guide, no protector. There was no one.
"Valen!"
All of Minbar was in mourning. The Grey Council dead, only three remaining. Hedronn had gone, vanished completely. Sinoval supposed that he was dead, but that hardly mattered now. The Council had been broken, as Valen had prophesied long ago.
"Answer me!"
Some of the more extreme members of the warrior caste had taken it upon themselves to avenge the murder of their representatives on the Council. Warrior had slain worker. For the first time in a thousand years, Minbari were killing Minbari. Kalain had returned to his clan's stronghold, gathering support for his faction. That damned Centauri Ambassador was gone, returned to his homeworld. Sinoval still owed him a favour, one he had no intention of repaying.
"Valen! Is this my destiny? Is this what I would do? Break us apart? Be the leader who leads us into the abyss? Answer me!
"VALEN, ANSWER ME!"
Sinoval's rage knew no bounds, but all his rage, all his anger and all his words.... they could not get him a reply.
The Dreaming remained silent.
He stormed from the room and paused outside it, looking around at the empty Whisper Gallery, and then at the pike he held - one of Durhan's nine. Slowly he extended it, and then he hurled it contemptuously to the floor.
Sinoval walked on alone, into the darkness.
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