Chapter 4

BETA Durani. A medium-sized colony, sixty years or so old when the Minbari arrived. For some reason this outpost was luckier than most. Overrun just before the Battle of the Line, when the Minbari were too intent on their headlong assault on Earth to consolidate their victories, the colony survived. Its inhabitants were questioned, interrogated, a few were tortured, but they survived.
They survived even when Earth was destroyed, even when Minbari and human were engulfed by fire and hatred over Mars, even when the Minbari discovered an ancient vessel beneath the surface of Mars, and temporarily abandoned their war against humanity.
They survived even through the fall of the colonies on Orion and the Belt Alliance. They survived through the turmoil of the power struggle between warrior and priest, through the build-up to the renewal of hostilities at the Second Line, and through the bloody massacre of the worker caste which followed.
Beta Durani had been asleep for eleven years, alone, forgotten. Run by Minbari, inhabited by humans - with a small cadre of resistance, but mainly a Minbari outpost, forgotten and unimportant.
No longer.
On the morning of October 1st, 2259, a little after 7.00 according to the old Earth Standard Time and calendar, a fleet sent from Proxima 3 arrived to reclaim Beta Durani.
War between human and Minbari had been renewed.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

"Isil'zha veni, my lord. In Valen's name."
Countless light years away, another event just as significant to the fates of Minbari and human was taking place. On board a gigantic spaceship, a floating, flying castle in the darkness named Cathedral, Sinoval, nominal leader of the Minbari, was meeting the Minbari who had, centuries ago, stood and fought at Valen's side.
All knew of Marrain the Accursed. The First Ranger, he was called. He had met Valen, been the first to greet him on his appearance. He had acted as Valen's bodyguard, confidante, his strongest ally. He had been Valen's Right Hand, standing by his side throughout the Battles of Ikarra, Ba'alash, Marais, and the siege of Norsa. It had been Marrain who had found Valen on the world where he had brought light to the Darkness; it had been Marrain who had broken the wall formed by the Enemy during the final assault on Z'ha'dum; Marrain who had followed Valen into the Darkness there....
.... and had fallen.
Marrain had fallen at Z'ha'dum, corrupted by his friend and ally, Parlonn, who had himself fallen years before. Marrain, driven by pride and grief and anger, had turned on Valen. Renaming himself Shryne, he had sought to undermine everything Valen had done, attempting to destroy the nascent Grey Council, to spark renewed war between the clans....
For every act of glory before his fall, Marrain had performed three acts of horror after it. Few spoke his name now; he was always known as Shryne, one of very few Minbari to become corrupted by the Enemy.
Marrain the Accursed, the Lost, the Betrayer.
The last recorded sighting of him had been at the Starfire Wheel, the last time the ancient device had been used. He had challenged his former friend there, determined to pull Valen and himself to their deaths in the heat of the suns of Minbar. Instead, Marrain had fallen from the Wheel and Valen had remained, untouched by the Wheel's power. That one event proved Valen to be the chosen of the old Gods to lead and guide the Minbari. Marrain had staggered away, falling into the shadow cast by Valen's light.
And now he was here.... his soul captured how many centuries before by the one who was now Primarch Majestus et Conclavus of the Soul Hunters.
Forced to endure immortality, forever remembering the actions of his past.
To such a one had Sinoval come, seeking advice and knowledge about the One whom Marrain had tried so often to destroy.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Administrator Forell awoke from an uneasy sleep. Rising to his feet, he walked slowly to the window of his chamber, feeling.... as though something unique was taking place.
He learned just how unique when he received a message from the Alyt of the Hiruma - one of the two warships currently berthed at Beta Durani.
.... under attack. Repeat.... we are under attack.... Humans.... Drakh.... Streibs.... others.... cannot send message for reinforcements.... can.... not....
Forell started, and immediately sent for Lavelle, his aide.
This was going to be a unique day indeed.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

"It was pride. That is all. Pride, which caused me to fall. The titles I was given.... Valen's Right Hand, the First Ranger.... I led his forces in his name. Oh, there were others, of course, Parlonn, Derannimer, but I was the first of the three.
"And then I fell. I will not speak of what I was offered. It was my pride which destroyed me, that is enough. I was always in the shadow cast by Valen's brilliance, and instead of seeking to remain in his light, I fell in his shadow.
"I.... had known the greatest, bravest, noblest warrior in our history. I stood beside him, fought beside him.... He could have done so much."
"And he did," Sinoval said, unable to tear his eyes from the figure before him. The two warriors were split by a gulf which was far wider than the sea of flames created by Marrain's unstable mind; far greater than the weight of ten centuries.... the gulf between the one who sought to follow in Valen's footsteps and the one who had tried to eradicate those footsteps altogether.
"He did a great deal," Sinoval said. "But now his work.... his memory.... is fading. I am here to keep that memory alive."
"Fading...? How long has it been? I have not been spoken to.... in so long."
"A thousand years since Valen appeared to you and Parlonn. Nine hundred years since he passed beyond."
"Ah.... by Valeria. A long time indeed. And he is.... remembered still?"
"Yes, but his ways are followed only by a few. I.... I need to know a few things.... about you, about him."
"Am I still remembered?"
"Yes."
"I will not ask how I am remembered. That.... might not be wise. Who are you then? What do you want here?"
"I am Sinoval, Holy One, leader of the Grey Council, heir to Valen's legacy. I must know where Valen's soul currently resides. I need to speak with Valen."
"I have been trapped here.... for over nine centuries, you say? Nine centuries! So long! And you.... you who still lives free, you who claims to follow the legacy created by him who destroyed me?! You come here and ask these things of me?
"Look at me! Look at me! Do you think I care about Valen and his legacy and his people? I fell through my pride, and was corrupted through my anger.
"Look at me, Sinoval, heir to Valen's legacy. Look a this place that is my prison. Gaze.... and burn!"
Sinoval took a brief step backwards as a wall of flames gushed up over him. Shielding his face instinctively with his arms, he could only hear Marrain's despairing cries as his consciousness was thrown backwards, tumbling into the waters of flame below....
"Look at me, Valen!"

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Captain Dexter Smith resisted the urge to smile. He had been doubtful of this plan from the start, but he was a good soldier and simply did as he was ordered, for all his speculations that any one of a hundred actions by the Minbari could lead to disaster here. As it was, everything was going perfectly.
The timing had been right - attacking the colony while only two Minbari ships were there. The new modifications made to the Babylon since its initial testing had resulted in much greater efficiency and skill. It was a match for a full Minbari warship now, even without help. The Morningstar was just as powerful - more so even. And then there were the Drakh and the Streibs....
"General Ryan on line one, sir," said Lieutenant Franklin. Smith nodded and took the call. It was not exactly standard procedure for a general to captain a ship personally, but the story was that Ryan had insisted. Smith would not have been surprised if Clark and the others simply wanted to get rid of him.
"Status, Captain Smith?"
"All's in order. Both planetary defence satellites are down."
"Good. All opposition here cleared. What about the jump gate?"
"The Streibs are working on that." Shutting down the jump gate had been an important part of the attack. The last thing they needed was hordes of Minbari ships coming through. And any ship which jumped in under its own power would be vulnerable enough for a few moments to enable their ships to get in an early attack.
"Then commence orbital bombardment. Target military bases only."
"Yes sir." This had been a part of the plan from the beginning, and Smith had not been overly pleased with the idea. Still, it was one of the most efficient ways of taking out opposition on the ground.
At 0715 hours Earth Standard Time, the attack on Beta Durani had begun. Not much more than an hour later, the colony surrendered.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Sinoval braced himself for the onslaught of the flames searing up towards him. Hotter than any fire, however, was Marrain's anger, a furious, rushing rage.
Once he had been the greatest of us all, and now....
The fire engulfed Sinoval, and for a moment he felt pain, but it passed. A silver mist swept over him, and when his vision cleared he was standing on a hillside overlooking a lake. He knew this place. It was just outside the capital city of Yedor, on Minbar.
"I came here often when I was alive," said Marrain, standing looking over the lake. "I came here because Valen did. There was something about this place.... it had a special significance for him. I did not see it - could not see it. I still do not."
"We call this place Turon'val'na lenn-veni," Sinoval said.
"The Place Where Valen Waits," Marrain said, anger in his voice. "Always it is he. Beside any other, I would have been the greatest of my generation. The greatest leader, the greatest warrior, the greatest of all.... Beside him, I was nothing more than a candle to the stars. Are you the greatest of your generation?" There was no hint of insanity in his voice, nothing but cold, steely resolve. And yet.... Sinoval was glad he could not see Marrain's eyes.
"I do not know," he replied awkwardly. "That is why I wish to speak to you. There is.... something I need to ask."
"Then ask." Marrain did not turn around.
"'One shall fall, and one shall die, and one shall save them all.' Valen spoke of One who would save them all. Am I that one?"
Marrain let out a noise that might have been a chuckle. "You mistranslated. I suppose it is possible for the wording to have changed in a thousand years. That is not what Valen said."
Sinoval supposed he should have felt some emotion, but he could not. He simply felt nothing. "Then what did he say?"
"'One shall fall, and one shall fail, and one shall save the One.'" There was a marked difference in the way Marrain said the final 'One'. "I was there when Valen relayed his prophecies to Derannimer and Nemain. There would be One, he said, who would accomplish the salvation of all, not just Minbari, but everyone. But the One would be three. The One who Was, the One who Is, and the One who Will Be."
Sinoval was not following this. "Who...?"
"Valen himself claimed to be the One who Was. Why that should be, I do not know. As for the others.... He spoke of someone once. I did not know her name, but she was.... not Minbari. As Valen was not, but slightly different. She would be our salvation and our hope.
"'We must reunite with the other half of our soul,' he said. She would be the means through which this would be done."
"Valen's Name," Sinoval whispered. He remembered....
"No!" she cried, a word that was more a scream than a normal utterance. "No! Listen to me! Valen was human! They are our kin. They are the other half of our soul!"
"Valen's Name.... Delenn.... Oh, no.... Oh, Valen, no...." Sinoval started, speaking now with an urgent need, the words tripping over themselves as they left his mouth. "One shall fall and one shall d.... fail.... and one shall save.... them.... and one shall save the One. Who?"
"Don't you know?" Marrain turned to face Sinoval, and his eyes.... reflected in his inky-black pupils was a flame which would never burn out, a flame of madness, of vision, of destiny.... the same flame which had stirred Sinoval's soul for so long. "Parlonn failed, I fell, and Derannimer saved Valen."
"No.... no, that's not true. Sech Durhan.... he said that.... Neroon, Tryfan, I.... we were the three he spoke of...."
"Then maybe your Sech Durhan was right. Everything is a cycle, is it not?"
Sinoval's thoughts and words jumbled in his mind and in his voice. He could not think, could not think. "Tryfan died at Proxima, but was that a failure? Neroon vanished from Minbar, leaving the Rangers, but has he fallen? I have.... failed.... oh, Valen. I have failed my people, failed Valen, failed Delenn.... Oh, Valen."
"Prophecy is a poor guide to the future," Marrain said. He seemed to be smiling. "Welcome to my future. I will wait for you to join me here. I.... miss the company after all this time."
"But Valen.... you.... I...."
"I would have been the greatest of my generation, but beside him, I was nothing but a candle to the stars. Surely you of all people can understand why I did what I did."
Sinoval realised he had fallen to his knees. "Valen.... no! No! NOOOOO!"
He threw his head back and the whole landscape around him fell away. As the silver mist dissolved around him he found himself lying on the cold stone floor of the Primarch's Soul Chamber in Cathedral.
The Primarch was standing above him, his long, slender fingers entwined in a steeple. A pale, enigmatic smile played around his face. "You were speaking to him for a long time, Primarch Nominus et Corpus. A very long time. I myself have not dared commune with that one for even half as long."
"Was it true?" Sinoval panted, sucking in huge gasps of air. "Was.... it.... what he said. Could it have been true?"
"Ordinarily, a soul is incapable of lying, but a lie and an untruth are not necessarily the same. A soul can only reveal what it honestly believes to be the case. That one.... he was all but insane when I took him, and his death occurred in great agony and suffering. When that happens.... anything is possible. Perhaps it did lie, perhaps it is mistaken, or perhaps it is a truth you simply do not wish to hear. Did you discover that which you sought?"
"No.... no, I did not."
"Well then. You had better keep searching. What are your orders now, Primarch?"
"I.... have none. I.... need to.... rest."
The Primarch Majestus et Conclavus smiled again, inclining his head gently. "As you wish. You may have any quarters in Cathedral of course. As is your right."
Sinoval did not listen. He did not care. He simply wanted to scream, to let out all his anger and his grief and his self-pity in a scream which would shake the very towers of Cathedral. But he did not. He doubted he could give vent to such a scream, and live.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Kazomi 7 had once been a place of heavy trade, of much travel, of many visitors. That was before the Drakh invasion. No new ships had arrived there for months and even now, with the Drakh gone, few dared journey here. The worlds outside were either preoccupied with their own concerns, or afraid to go near a place touched by a race as fearsome as the Drakh, or simply did not care. For a world desperately starved of food, medical supplies and communications, the people did not know whether to welcome the presence of an armed capital warship, or to fear it.
One person knew.
As she watched the human shuttle come in to land on the large plain just outside the main - and only major - settlement of the planet, Delenn, formerly Satai, formerly prisoner, formerly angel of mercy, drew in a sharp breath. Not just in anticipation of hope, of a future for the people she had taken to her heart, but in anticipation of who would be aboard that shuttle.
The shuttle came to a halt and figures began pouring out. Narns, members of the security force aboard the EAS Parmenion. The infamous Narn Bat Squad. Delenn smiled slightly, but her smile turned to a soft gasp as two more figures came into view. Delenn began walking forward slowly, wishing that she could blame any near-trips to awkwardness with her new, mostly-human body.
"Delenn!" shouted one of the human figures. To the evident displeasure of many of the Narns he began trotting forward, not running, but moving with a little too much speed for a formal diplomatic meeting.
She stepped forward to meet him, and he managed to slow just as he reached her, touching her arms gently, with just a hint of awkwardness, a mere fraction away from a full embrace, but that fraction was still there.
"Delenn," smiled Captain John Sheridan. "You.... ah.... you look great."
She smiled warmly. She supposed that compared to the last time he had truly seen her - a pitiful travesty, caught between races, between transformations, each breath an agony, each movement an ordeal - compared to that last meeting, she supposed she did look better. Unless he actually liked her new.... appearance....
"Thank you," she said, not sure of what else she should be saying. "I.... I.... have missed you, John."
"I've missed you too...." There was a noise very much like a Drazi trying subtly to draw attention to himself - which was not very subtle at all. Subtlety was not a Drazi attribute. Delenn bowed her head slightly and stepped a little way back from John.
"May I present Ambassador Vizhak," she said, indicating the still purple-sashed Drazi behind her. He was standing as far away from Taan Churok as he could. Vizhak made a small gesture of welcoming, which John returned. "And Taan Churok." He had no real title as such - well, nothing more than innkeeper - but he had a strong air of personal authority.
"Ah, Cap'n. Hello, yer 'onner." Delenn bit back a smile, acknowledging the diminutive human who stepped forward. She didn't think he was actually all that short, but he walked in a sort of crouch, making expressive gestures.
"This is...."
"Captain Jack, yer 'onner. You remember me, I'm sure. Itinerant merchant, traveller, wanderer of the spaceways, heh heh heh. I'm the one who sent you the signal from here, remember me? Well, I was sort of wondering if there might be any sort of position that might come up.... you know what I mean...."
"Come and see me later, and I'll see what I can arrange." John glanced over Captain Jack to Delenn, silent pleading in his eyes. Delenn's smile widened.
"This is Merchant-Lord Lethke." The closest translation she could find to his title.
The Brakiri stepped forward, and made the traditional gesture of welcoming. "It is an honour, Captain," he said. "But.... if I may be so bold, perhaps we could save the diplomacy for later. The food and medical supplies you bring are sorely needed."
Delenn silently cursed herself. Here she was, mere moments after seeing John, and she seemed to have lost her mind entirely.
"Of course," Sheridan said. "Ko'Dath and Commander Corwin - my second and Head of Security - will be happy to help you distribute everything." He glanced at Delenn again, and then turned back to the others - Vizhak, Taan Churok, Lethke, Captain Jack, Vejar.... even Londo had turned up, although he was hanging towards the back and not saying much. Lennier had not.
"Delenn," said a voice. Smiling, Delenn turned. "I.... I'm glad to see you."
"Lyta. It is good to see you again. We.... never really had a chance to talk after Proxima." The red-haired telepath smiled and stepped forward, hugging Delenn tightly.
"I could feel almost everything you were going through," Lyta said. "Please don't do that to me again."
"I won't. Trust me."
Lyta pulled back and shook her head softly. "It's been one of those months. It's been...." She looked around at the others, busily organising the transport of the food. "We'll talk later."
"Yes," Delenn said. "I'd like that."

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

President Morgan Clark sat back from the communicator and suppressed a broad smile. Spinning around on his chair, he only just restrained himself from laughing out loud. He rose to his feet and began adjusting his suit. Not ten steps and one door away sat the remnants of the Resistance Government, waiting to hear the word of humanity's greatest triumph thus far.
Walking into the meeting room, he kept a neutral composure. They had asked him for guarantees. Guarantee us this, prove we can win, promise us that.... Well, if the events of this morning were not enough, then nothing would be.
Six pairs of eyes turned to stare at him. Walking slowly, studying each person carefully, he took his seat at the head of the table. Donne, Isogi, Sakai, Kha'Mak, Welles, Sheridan. None of them could be trusted, and none of them shared his vision for humanity, but for the moment their paths lay on similar courses.
Welles and Sheridan were already aware of this news of course. The others might have guessed. It didn't matter. Nothing could diminish the impact of his message.
"Early this morning," he began, "our ships - the Babylon and the Morningstar - accompanied by ships provided by a number of our alien allies, attacked the Minbari-held colony at Beta Durani. After a short battle, the colony was retaken. All the Minbari ships on patrol there were destroyed. Our own losses were negligible. A list of the dead is being compiled and will be circulated to the appropriate bodies within the military, who will inform the families.
"Provisional reports indicate that there are a few humans still surviving on Beta Durani. A temporary governing council is being formed there until something more permanent can be set up."
Clark looked around the table. "Well, ladies and gentlemen. You have asked me for assurances and guarantees. Surely this suffices?"
Taro Isogi said nothing, but made a brief nod. He hardly mattered anyway. His own business was a small thing, potentially useful but small. No, the true voice of what remained of the MegaCorps was Catherine Sakai, spokesperson for Interplanetary Expeditions.
She did not disappoint him. "How long will our ships be remaining at Beta Durani?" she asked.
"Only as long as it takes to pacify the Minbari population and secure the planet. They will then be moving on."
"Why so soon?"
"We intend to win this war, Miss Sakai," spoke up Ambassador Sheridan. Clark was irked at having his thunder stolen, but he gave no sign of irritation. "We will move on to the next colony, and then the next one, and the next, until we are at the homeworld itself. This is not a war for territory, or money, or pride. It is a war for survival, and only one of our races will survive."
"I see. Well then, Mr. President, will you grant us the concessions you promised at the last meeting?"
"Certain exemptions will be made from the Wartime Emergencies Provisions. The tax breaks we promised you will also be granted. And Councillor Kha'Mak has very generously promised favourable trading terms with his government. Is that not the case, Councillor?"
"Of course, President Clark." The Narn did not look happy and Clark could not blame him. The prospect of an unhappy Narn did not worry the President at all.
"And of course our newly-liberated colonies will be needing some substantial trading opportunities. Well, Miss Sakai, will you now fulfill your side of the promise?"
"I will have to talk to my superiors, but it does seem likely. I have just one question. What will happen to the Minbari population of Beta Durani? There may be aspects of their technology we might find useful."
"They will be pacified."
"Which means?"
"Which means that they will no longer be a threat, or of use to anyone. Trust me on that."

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Delenn hoped that for the first time in months she would be able to sleep without nightmares. It had been a very busy few hours; she had driven herself harder than she had for a long time. But the work.... it had all been worth it. Co-ordinating with the Parmenion's doctors, she had been able to save at least fifteen who would otherwise have died soon, and many others were looking forward to a longer life than they could have thought possible. She had then gone from the hospital to the temporary base of government to watch John make his speeches.
"We.... represent an alliance which believes in peace, and order, and above all.... life. What has happened here is dreadful, a tragic loss of life, but more than that.... it is a loss of hope, a loss of happiness, a loss of purpose. We cannot restore to life those who were killed, but we may be able to restore some hope.
"I look around at those present here, and I see a gathering of races, brought together by a common, if tragic goal. What began as a coalition of necessity, its only goal survival, has become something greater. An alliance of races, of peoples.... working together.
"I and my crew.... we will help defend this place as much as we can in the future. There is a great deal of chaos and darkness engulfing the galaxy outside, and we cannot be everywhere, but when we can be here, we will be here, protecting what has been built.
"It was a leader of my people, hundreds of years ago, who once said.... something special...." He had paused here and Delenn had seen on his lips, if not spoken aloud, the words, What the hell did he say? Come on, John, you can't forget this again. You used to give it all the time. Ah yes.... He had looked up.
"The dogmas of the quiet past are inadequate to the stormy present. The occasion is piled high with difficulty, and we must rise to the occasion. We cannot escape history. We will be remembered in spite of ourselves. The fiery trial through which we pass will light us down, in honour or dishonour, to the last generation. We shall nobly save, or meanly lose, our last, best hope of the future."
Delenn had smiled, and slipped away. This had been nothing more than a Drazi colony and trading post. Before that speech there had no question of forging a new alliance here, but now there was no question of not forming one. She thought she detected the hand of G'Kar there, but she was happy at the thought. If some good could arise from all this tragedy, then that made her smile. A little.
But for her, there could be no place in this new alliance. She had led once, and been mistaken. She had tried to turn her people back from the brink to which she had brought them, and she had failed. Now, she was a healer, a worker with the sick and the dying. That was where she belonged now.
She remembered.... Londo coming to see her. He looked ragged and torn, and a little unhappy.
"I have to go, Delenn," he had said. "There is little I can do here now, and I am needed elsewhere. My homeworld.... Elric gave me the means to save it, perhaps. I do not know if I can manage it. I simply know that I must try."
"I understand, Londo," she had replied. "I wish you good fortune."
"Yes, well. I'll probably need it. Good fortune does not exactly follow me around. I promise you this, Delenn. If the day ever comes when I am once again in a position of power among my people, I will lend you all my support. Everything my Republic can muster, I will use to help what you are doing here."
"I? I have done little, Londo."
"If you say so, Delenn." He did not seem to believe her. He leant forward and kissed her on the cheek. Stepping back, he winked, leaving Delenn touching her cheek in surprise. She smiled and inclined her head in respect as he walked away.
She remembered.... John coming up to her afterwards, after the speeches, after the healing, after....
She had said his name softly, but he didn't seem able to get hers out. "I...." he had begun. "I'm sorry for what happened before.... you left. I.... I wasn't fair to you. I wasn't...."
"Shush. If you have to apologise, then so must I. And then you will have to apologise for me apologising, and I will have to apologise to you, and none of us will ever stop apologising. And that would be a waste."
"Oh?" He raised an eyebrow. "My compliments on your understanding of human nature. You've obviously picked up a lot."
"I am.... learning." There was a tension here, something unresolved, something neither of them could resolve at that moment. A chance to laugh, a chance to be.... with each other. For the moment, that was enough. They had talked, about large things and small things, politics, dreams, bad jokes....
"Oh, things up there.... they've been a mess. The whole League of Non-Aligned Worlds seems to be falling apart. They're going to war with each other, civil war, everything's falling apart. Most of it without any reason."
"Then Londo was right?" Swiftly, Delenn had outlined Londo's theories about the Keepers. "I had hoped...."
"That could be it.... Maybe G'Kar knows something about these Keepers. I'll have to let him know. He's had me doing patrols throughout League space. Obviously I can't do much with just one ship, but I do what I can. Patrolling borders, protecting refugee ships, that sort of thing.... I was very surprised to hear your signal. I'd thought.... Well, I'd heard about the Drakh invasion, and G'Kar did send some ships to try to get here, but they all got cut to pieces. I.... I was.... afraid.... for you...."
"I.... survived. It was.... not easy at times. But overall.... we endured...."
"I wish I could have been here. I just wish...."
"Shush. There was nothing you could have done. Nothing."
"Oh.... I must say I like your new appearance. You seem to be getting a new body every year. Any chance of another one next year?"
"Valen, I hope not. Besides, do you not like this one? I am quite pleased with it." She had done a little twirl for him, to demonstrate, and he had laughed. "Although I will not deny, there have been some.... awkward moments."
"You think you've had awkward moments so far, wait till you try human fashions."
"No.... I do not mean clothing. It is just.... maybe you can help me with this. When the technomages completed my transformation, I felt so well. Everything seemed right. But then.... one day.... for a few hours, I was in such pain. Then.... I discovered.... I was.... bleeding...." Delenn had taken a deep breath, somehow reluctant to explain further. "It scared me. I thought something had gone wrong with my transformation. But there was so much to do, so many more sick than I, and after a few days it gradually stopped. But then, a few weeks later, the same thing happened again. Something in Lyta's memories seemed familiar, but.... John, are you all right? Your face is very.... red...."
"Ah.... just the.... atmosphere here. A little thicker than what I'm used to.... Takes a bit of adjusting. Umm.... yes, I wasn't expecting to have to do this for a good few years yet.... Elizabeth wouldn't have been.... Er.... well, there are sort of.... times when.... er.... for women.... human women.... when they...."
"Yes?"
"Er.... well.... It's sort of like...." His face had been getting redder and redder, and he had tried to avoid looking her in the eye.
"John? Is there.... something wrong with me?"
"Ah.... no.... umm.... Oh, I'll go get Lyta. I'm sure she can do this better than I can." He had leapt to his feet and looked around. "I just hope no one heard me say this," he had muttered to himself. His glance had been full of tenderness and loss, as if he were trying to commit her new face to memory. Then he had reddened again, saying, "I won't be long," as he scurried away.
She remembered.... Lyta coming, and explaining that, amongst other things.... That had been an interesting conversation! Why John had been quite so embarrassed by it, Delenn did not really understand. Lyta made everything sound perfectly normal, if inconvenient. They had talked about other things as well, a great many other things.
Delenn stood at the window of the room in the hospital that she had taken for her own. A small room, which now - for the first time she could remember - was not shared by the dying. As the night sky darkened over Kazomi 7, she smiled one long, last time, before going to bed.
And there were no nightmares. Not one.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Londo had definite plans for the future. First, get off Kazomi 7. The sooner the better. News of this was bound to get out now that travel would resume, and if he could dissociate himself from it, so much the better. The last thing he needed was to attract attention.
Then.... he needed a communicator. He had been out of things for so long.... anything could have happened back home. He needed to contact his agents, among them Mr. Morden - to ask a certain question or two - and his dearly beloved Timov - to find out if his estate was still intact.
Then.... find out where Prime Minister Malachi had been hiding all these years, and....
He came skidding to a halt. Standing before Captain Jack's somewhat ramshackle spaceship was Lennier. He had been making himself decidedly inconspicuous ever since the technomages had left. Oh, he had been working hard in various departments - scouting parties with Taan Churok, administrative details with Lethke, reading some of his.... unique brand of Minbari poetry to the injured when Delenn wasn't around.... But everywhere he had been, he had made himself as invisible as he could.
"Mr. Lennier. I have been looking for you. I wanted to say goodbye. I am leaving today, you see. I...."
"Yes," came the reply. "I know. I would.... like to come with you."
"Really? I would have thought you would be looking for a place here. Delenn is bound to need someone to help her knock these characters into shape, no?"
"That would.... not be suitable. You, however, will need some help on your mission. I would like to provide it."
"Ah.... By the Great Maker, why not? Come on, Mr. Lennier. Let us find that disreputable rogue Captain Jack. He promised me a trip off this place, you know. To one of the League worlds first. I have to get in contact with my agents.... and I need a drink. Do you know how long it had been since I last saw alcohol? Far too long, let me tell you. Far, far too long. Why, I almost thought I would forget the taste of the stuff.... Now that was a horrendous prospect, let me tell you...."

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

They will be pacified.
Forell had never been very important. Stuck in a position of little worth, of little regard, of less power. Suddenly he was now very important, but not for a reason he liked.
Frozen, unable to move so much as a muscle, yet compelled to watch, he saw the Drakh move around him, readying the Keeper they would attach to his neck.
Pacification....