Chapter 2

HE is Valen, he is the saviour of the Minbari, their prophet of the past, their light in the future. They always knew he would return.... one day, but if only they could have seen the truth.
He is Jeffrey Sinclair, he is the last witness of a doomed Earth, the last human to see his world before it died. They thought he was dead.... if only they could have seen the truth.
His life is unknown to him, his future set out clearer than his past. There are names, to be sure, and sometimes even faces. A brother, a lover, men under his command. They are coming to him clearer now, much clearer. A simple consequence of his waking? Or something more?
Catherine. A name. And a face. And a.... feeling.
Catherine....
That name he knows should be important to him, but not why. Other names are so much clearer. Marrain and Parlonn, who had found him and betrayed him; Derannimer, whom he would love and be loved by, until his passing; Zathras, who would be his guide; Nukenn and Rashok, who would record his legacy; Nemain, who would learn from his teachings....
He can see them all. He can see Parlonn kneeling before him, the first to swear fealty. He can see Marrain screaming as the Starfire Wheel destroys his flesh and his mind. He can see Derannimer bearing his child. He can see.... so many things.
So many things, so many faces, so many names. His future, his past.... what does it matter?
There is just one face he cannot recall, the one he would most like to recall.... not as a Minbari, but as a human.
His own.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

"More lies," snapped Sinoval.
He would be antagonistic, thought Delenn absently. He would have to be. Sinoval was the archetypal warrior - strong, arrogant, brash and convinced he was the only answer to Minbar's problems. And, up until the moment of Valen's return, he had been. Also, he hated the Vorlons, and Valen had returned accompanied by one.
"How do you know that?" asked Lyta heatedly, stepping out from behind Valen. "How do you know he's lying?"
Lyta was.... feeling strange. Lyta and Delenn shared an intense bond, which joined them on a spiritual level. Neither quite understood it, and yet each welcomed it. Each was in her own way alone, and the comfort of their bond helped them both. Now that Delenn had found comfort with John, she had almost forgotten about Lyta. That lapse had led to some unusual consequences, it seemed.
"I am who I say I am," replied Valen.... or at least, the one who called himself Valen. Delenn was not thinking about him. She did not want to. Not at all.
Behind Sinoval, Kats shifted, trying to get a better look at the man claiming to be her saviour. Her gaze was curious, her bearing not threatening. Delenn did not know her well, but she had heard of her actions after the bombardment. Kats might just be the only means to safeguard Sinoval's soul.
"Then prove yourself!" demanded Sinoval. "When Marrain met you at the place where you brought light to the darkness, what were the first words you said to him?"
"You can't expect him to...." Lyta began, but Valen raised a hand.
"I told him that I was never in darkness, for I brought my light with me, as do we all. Even when Marrain died, he still had some light within him."
Sinoval looked shaken. "Where did Marrain die?" he asked, softer now.
"I do not know. I never saw him again after he fell from the Starfire Wheel."
"Sinoval," Delenn said wearily, finding the courage to speak at last. "Cease the questioning. He is who he claims to be."
He shook his head. "I do not believe that. I cannot believe that. He is everything I could ever have imagined Valen to be, but there is.... no depth. No age. He might as well be a lifeless statue. His flesh and bone might as well be wood and stone. There is nothing within him, none of the age, none of the wisdom, none of the strength Valen possessed. He is just a Vorlon puppet."
"No," Valen said, speaking in the same soft, paternal tone he often used. "I am no puppet, nor am I lifeless. I am Valen, or.... to speak more accurately. I will be Valen." Delenn breathed in sharply, closing her eyes. Sinoval cast his hard, dark gaze, first on Valen, then on Delenn. "Everything is a circle, and everything returns to the beginning.... in time. I once was Jeffrey Sinclair, a human. I will be Valen, a Minbari. In time."
"You knew," Sinoval said to Delenn. "You.... you tried to warn us.... before the assault on Proxima Three. You.... knew...."
She nodded. "While I was being.... hurt.... once.... I had a vision. A revelation, of sorts. I saw Valen, as I had when I was a child. I knew then. It was only later that I became certain. I saw Valen again, not as a vision. It was after that, that I made my decision to change. I knew at last where our souls were.... who were the other half of our souls.... who was the other half of my soul." Her hand sought John's and clasped it tightly. He stepped up beside her.
"You tried to warn us.... to warn me. Ah.... so then, Valen, what is your secret? That is why we are here, are we not? To share secrets?"
"We are here to be reborn," came the reply. "And a rebirth cannot occur unless the old life is gone. Share your secrets, Sinoval. You know where this begins."
"My secrets? And you will share yours? A chance for purging? Old guilts, old worries, old secrets."
"New souls."
Delenn nodded slowly. Yes, the purging of old secrets. She too had her old secrets to purge. Far too many of them.
"You know where this begins, Sinoval."
"Of course I do," he replied. "The same place it ends. Shakiri."
And as he spoke the images began to flow, appearing around them. The white mists fled and were replaced by the sight of metal floor, of high roof, of darkness all around, of a Sinoval, younger, and prouder, and darker....

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Sinoval's Past.
I have not seen Shakiri in ten cycles. I will never see him again. And yet I see him still, still remember the timbre of his voice, the power of his stance, the strength in his bearing.
The man was a fool, and an arrogant one as well. He was a fool who does not see that he is a fool, and that makes him the most dangerous fool of all.
Warleader, Satai, he had ambitions to go further still. He would never have achieved them, of course, but he had ambitions all the same. He was the one who had met Deathwalker, many years before. He was the one who had offered her sanctuary. He was the one who would later introduce me to her.
But that was later, of course. For now, he was speaking to me.... on board the Trigati, as our forces neared Earth. We had swept past the outer colonies of their.... your.... solar system. They were unnecessary. We were ready at last, ready to take the fight to your homeworld. We.... believed we were right. We knew we were right.
Our leaders told us so.
Don't flinch, Delenn. If I am to share my.... guilt in this, then so must you. We were told that the war was right, and just, and holy. People died in the pursuit of that holy ambition. If it was not holy, then all those deaths were for nothing.
But that is beside the point. We were nearing Earth. I was on board the Trigati of course, captaining her. She was our flagship, built after the loss of the Dralaphi. She was one of the greatest ships we would ever build. I was fully aware of how important my ship was, and of how many wondered at my leading her. I did not wonder. I knew I deserved it.
I remember that day. Shakiri had come over from the Valentha, having just been in closed meetings with some of the Grey Council. I presumed Morann and Coplann. They had after all been Satai longer than he had. They knew what he did not - the impetus for the war was dying. Many were questioning its justification. Shakiri would not stand for that, and neither would I.... but for very different reasons.
"You are loyal, are you not?" he asked, his first words to me on entering my private chambers, unannounced. Shakiri was a most unusual Satai.
I was insulted.... I will admit it, and I told him so. I have always been loyal. Always.
"Of course you are," he said. "You are a good man, the rising star. Some say it will not be long before you rise to Satai."
"I will rise higher," I replied. I knew I would, even then.
"Perhaps, but not for ten cycles at least.... Anyway, there are things you must know before that day, before the final stage in this.... 'holy war' is concluded. The other castes.... they are weak, Sinoval. The workers are nothing, and the priestlings are fools. The future of Minbar is ours. With this war over, we will take it. We will destroy these Earthers and restore our place in the galaxy. Any who dare oppose us, we will crush. We have been silent too long."
"Would that include the Enemy, then?" I had heard the rumours. Branmer had spoken to me of Lenonn and his wishes. He sounded like a wise man. I am sorry I never managed to meet him.
"The Enemy? Pfah! Legends, only. They are long gone. No, I speak of other races, the Centauri, the Narns.... all the others.... We will rule them all. We are older than they, wiser than they, stronger than they. It is only right that we should rule."
"Perhaps. Why are you telling me this, Satai?"
"You are a loyal Minbari, Sinoval, and a loyal warrior. What I spoke of.... that is our destiny, and you can be there as a part of it. Your clan leaders.... they have spoken to me, and they have decided there is something you should see, someone you should meet."
"Satai, we will be approaching the Earthers' homeworld soon. I am needed here."
"The Earthers are no threat. This ship can run itself for a short while. Hor Alyt Kalain is capable enough. Come. This must be done now, before the battles and the aftermath consume us all."
"Who is it you want me to meet?"
"Someone who will give us what we need. Everything that we will ever need, Sinoval. Only three people alive know of her existence. Be the fourth.
"Come. Meet your destiny."

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

The images faded. Sinoval looked around at his eight companions. Delenn and Sheridan looked aghast. Kats looked.... hurt, somehow. The other two humans seemed to have little idea of the significance of the decade-old conversation he had just related.
Sinoval caught Delenn's gaze. Accusing, hurt, angry. "I stand by my decisions," he said. "All of them."
"I do not blame you," she said, but her eyes said something very different.
He shrugged. "As Shakiri said, only three people then knew of Jha'dur's existence. Shakiri himself, and the two clan leaders of the Wind Swords. All three would soon be dead. Shakiri killed at the Battle of Mars, his death providing me with the means to claim the position he had prophesied for me. The leaders of my clan died soon after that - one at the return of the Shadow ship a few months later. The other died.... of an unfortunate illness."
"How unfortunate?" asked the Starkiller, his eyes taut.
"I had nothing to do with it. I believe Jha'dur may have had. It was in her interests to be.... undiscovered for a while longer. She believed I would be all she needed. Perhaps she was right."
"And yet you killed her," Delenn said. "That must account for something."
"Perhaps. Anyway, Shakiri and I arrived on the Valentha and...."
"Wait," spoke up Valen. "Later. Each of us has stories and secrets. In order, I suppose mine would begin now. And then yours, Delenn."
"As you wish," Sinoval said, with a mocking bow. "Begin."
"I will. We.... we were afraid, of course, but there was more to it than that. There was a sense of....

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Sinclair's Past.
.... a sense of inevitability. It wasn't a surprise after all. We always knew you'd reach Earth some day. We'd been subconsciously hoping for a miracle all the while, but some of us were beginning to accept that it wasn't going to come.
The President had made a speech. I.... don't remember all of what she said, but some of us needed to survive. Some of us had to survive. If we died, then so did everything that was ours.... Marilyn Monroe, Lao Tzu, Einstein, Aristophanes.... everything.
It's funny. I can remember their names, but I don't know who some of those people are.
I was going to help defend Earth. I knew I had to. I was.... a fighter pilot, in one of the Starfury squadrons. I had my sense of.... purpose there. I thought that if I died then at least it would mean something.
Catherine didn't see it quite that way.
Catherine.... I wish I could remember what she looked like. I wish I could remember anything. What she said, how she talked, anything.... All I know is her name, and yet....
It doesn't matter. We.... argued, the two of us. She wanted to have a go at escaping. I don't know if she managed it or not. She took a ship to Mars before we lost contact with the planet. I.... hope.... she escaped. I don't know.
I readied myself, thinking about our enemy, who they were, why they were doing this, why anyone would want to destroy us.
Why....

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Valen, or perhaps Jeffrey Sinclair, shook his head as the images faded. They had been unclear and indistinct anyway. Himself as a human.... more or less. A woman who was little more than a shape and a voice and the hint of a scent.
Delenn was looking at him, her heart in her mouth. She knew now. It was all piecing together in her mind. Everything. Sinoval had been right, not about everything, but about enough. She had known, yes.... but so had he.
"I.... I should say something now," she said softly. "I don't really know where to begin."
"Where else?" asked Sinoval. "With the Vorlons, of course."
She nodded. "Yes. With the Vorlons...."

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Delenn's Past.
The first time I saw them was soon after the start of the war. I had not been sure what to expect. There was precious little information available even to me, on the Council. They were little more than legends. Dukhat had been in prior contact with them, but he had kept that knowledge secret from everyone, including me. I discovered their presence only after his death, when it was too late to heed their advice.
Valen, before he went beyond, had left a series of prophecies. Of the reunification of our souls.... of the missing halves of our souls, of fire and darkness, of many things. I had been studying them as much as I could, but to many they were nothing but a curiosity. Even the mystery of our missing souls was ignored by most, outright scorned by some. Few cared.
During the war, I had stopped caring. I had seen my path set out, and I had stepped from it, and all attempts to step back on to it had failed.
Only the Vorlons seemed determined to set me back on my way.
No, Sinoval. Whatever you think of them, the Vorlons are our friends. I trust them. Yes, later I will discover why you do not, I am sure.
I went to them once more, seeking solace as we approached Earth, seeking words of wisdom, of guidance. I was alone. I had been alone ever since Lenonn had died.
I slowly stepped into Dukhat's sanctum. Someone.... someone had once told me that the future lay within there. If only that had been the case. The room was dark, haunted, even tormented. A shadow moved around me. My heart skipped a beat. "Are you still here?" I whispered. I had not seen them for nearly three years.
There was an eternity of silence, and as I turned to leave, my heart heavy, my footsteps impossible, words of music came from out of the darkness.
<We have always been here.>
I spoke to them, pouring out all my failures. The war was everything then, there was nothing else. All our dreams, all Dukhat's dreams.... they were all lost. We were continuing with the war because we did not know how to stop it.
And then the Vorlon, and then.... Kosh.... spoke to me.
<The truth points to itself.>
I started. "What?" I can still hear that single word. I wish I had understood better then. Just a little.
<The truth points to itself.>
A simple enough message, but with the Vorlon fondness for riddles and enigma. I left, not knowing where or what or why.... Morann had once told me that whenever we spoke, all my words were questions. I told him that I had nothing else to say.
Never had that been truer than at that moment.
I was paying so little attention as I left the sanctum that I did not notice the two warriors I almost walked into.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Sinoval.
The truth points to itself, hmm? Perhaps not.
I did not know then where Shakiri was taking me. In truth, I was growing more than a little annoyed with him. We were embarking on the climactic mission of this war. Surely there was no time for diversions of this nature? Still, he was Satai, and my superior, and I owed him respect. Nowhere near the same degree of respect I showed Morann or Coplann, who had earned it a hundred times over, but still, something was owed to Shakiri.
He had taken me from the Trigati to the Grey Council's ship. For what reason, I could not imagine. Branmer was not there - he was co-ordinating the campaign from his Dogati, and most of the major Fane leaders were occupied elsewhere.
It turned out that Jha'dur had headquarters aboard the Grey Council's ship, closely guarded by Shakiri. He trusted her only a little more than I ever did.
My attention was diverted, however, only for a moment. A door I did not know opened, and a woman rushed out. One I recognised. I had been summoned before the Grey Council once before, to receive a commendation for my triumph during the complicated ground battle on the Flinn worlds. I remembered the young Satai who had spoken with the authority of a God and the compassion of a healer.
What Satai Delenn had seen that occasioned her to leave a room so hurriedly, unshed tears in her eyes, I could not know. She did not seem to see us, and rushed out past us. My footsteps paused, caught in the grip of destiny, perhaps? My eyes flickered and I caught one tiny glimpse into the room she had left.
I saw something move there. I felt something touch my mind, gently. I heard a voice, the sound the wind makes when it caresses a barren and deadened landscape.
<The Saviour, The Fallen, The Failed. Remember your destiny.>
I did not understand then, and I did not understand for a long time afterwards. Only when Durhan unveiled his discoveries in Valen's prophecies did I understand, and then I tried to ignore it. I still remain unconvinced. After all, things could have gone so very differently, and what use prophecy then?
Shakiri had not noticed any of this, and as the door closed, I felt the strange touch of destiny leave me. He turned back to me, finally seeing that I had stopped.
"You cannot let your future be delayed simply by a pretty woman," he said to me sternly. "If you have designs on Satai Delenn, then...."
"No," I replied firmly. A touch too firmly. I was relieved that he had so mistaken the reason for my delay, but not so relieved as to forget what I had heard. "No, of course not. I merely.... recognised her. That is all."
"Well and good. If you have plans for marriage, then I am sure they can wait. Besides, you would be far better with one from your own caste. Come. Time waits for no one."
"No," I muttered. "No, it does not."

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

The Dreaming fell silent for a moment, all eyes focussed on Sinoval. He too fell silent, meeting each and every gaze with a calm challenge. Delenn and Sheridan were shocked. Sheridan's human companion looked uncomfortable. The False Valen was.... resigned, but there was a hint of conflict beneath the placid exterior. The woman with him was trying very hard to avoid betraying some strong emotion. Kats was patient. Even the two Soul Hunters looked slightly interested.
Finally the silence was broken. "What happened then?" asked Sheridan's companion. He had the bearing of a warrior, but the voice of a priestling. Not the best of combinations, Sinoval mused.
"I went to see Jha'dur. That is it."
"That is not it," Delenn said quickly. "What did she say to you? What bargain did you make with her?"
"No bargain. No deal. I simply talked with her. More questions about my ambitions, my loyalties."
"No bargain?"
"No." Sinoval was lying, and most of those here suspected as much, but that did not matter. He had more than one secret, many more, and Jha'dur was not the one he had come here to purge. The deal he had made with her then had been but one step on the road to his ascension.
"What about the Vorlons?" That was the human woman, the one Sinoval did not know. He disliked and distrusted her instinctively. She stank of Vorlon, and that naturally riled him. What dealings she could have with them he did not know, nor did he want to know. He would first have to untangle their dealings with his people before turning to their involvement with others.
"Nothing. At least, nothing yet. That belongs to a later part of the story. The next part brings us up to the assault on Earth...."
"The Battle of the Line," whispered the False Valen, this.... Jeffrey Sinclair. "I.... remember it. All of it."
Sinoval extended an arm in mocking invitation. "Then perhaps you would like to take up the story."
"Like to? No.... never again, but we came here to purge secrets, did we not? You more than most, but I also. If this is to be realised, then I must tread my own paths of the past.
"It is strange. I forget the names of the people who shared my life for so long, but I remember....

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Sinclair's Past - The Battle of the Line.
.... the sight of the ships. All of them. So many. So fast. We did not know how they had got to Earth so quickly. We had ships out along the borders of the solar system. They must have been sidelined. We prayed that they would get back in time - those of us who did not secretly believe they had been destroyed.
There was a strange sense of madness creeping over all of us. A.... a willingness to die. A resignation to the fact that there was nothing else. A determination.
I remember.... praying.... to someone. I cannot remember who, or the words of the prayer, or even where this last, desperate prayer was uttered. I just.... cannot remember.
There are some names I can remember however. Bill Mitchell. David Macintyre. Andrew Denmark. I know their names and yet not the name of the woman I loved.
We did not see the Minbari fleet arrive. One minute they were not there, the next they were. They appeared all around us, whispering winds in the darkness of space. There seemed to be no order, no strategy, nothing. They just appeared, and killed, and....

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Sinoval snorted angrily. "Of course there was a strategy," he muttered. "I helped organise it."
The False Valen looked up at him, a child-like confusion in his expression. The link to his memories broken, he seemed almost imbecile. The vacancy in his gaze lasted only a moment or two, however. It was soon replaced by the firm, expressionless visage of a statue.
Sinoval shook his head sadly. As he had thought. Not the true Valen. Whatever his claims, or Delenn's claims, this could not be the true Valen.
"What do you remember of the Line, then?" Sheridan asked, speaking carefully. There was anger in his words, not surprisingly.
Sinoval flicked his gaze to Delenn, whose head was down, and from her to the False Valen. "It was.... a glorious climax to our holy war. The ending of a crusade. A chance for us all to prove our worth before Valen."
"A chance for you to wipe out a people, you mean!" That was Sheridan's companion. His second.
"And you have never fought in a war you believed to be just because your leaders told you it was so?" The human shook his head angrily. "In truth many of us were.... doubting the wisdom of the war. I was not one of them, I will admit. But others.... Satai Morann was tired. He had been there since the beginning, after all. As had Coplann. Shakiri.... he saw only his own gains in it. Branmer.... he too was tired. He did not believe that the war was right, but he did believe that he had a duty to fight the war to the best of his abilities. He was a good man."
"He was," Delenn said hollowly.
"As circumstances were, the war was coming to an end. Whatever our doubts, whatever our.... personal feelings.... it was coming to an end, and our final attack was as well-planned as any we had ever organised. Branmer and I ensured it was so.
"But somewhere along the way, things began to go wrong...."

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

For the third time since their entrance to this dead Hall, the mists around them came to life. The sight of ships flying across the skies, raining energy upon each other. The Minbari flew with graceful elegance and timeless beauty. The human ships acted with a determination almost unheard-of, a dedication rarely matched.
"There," whispered the person who was at one and the same time Valen and Jeffrey Sinclair. "There we are."
Voices came rising over the silence. Voices of those long dead.
"They're everywhere!"
"Can't stop 'em!"
"My God, they came out of nowhere!"
"They're locking on!"
And a voice that might once have been that of the one who now claimed to be Valen spoke out across the panorama. "Mitchell! Break off! Break off!"
One human ship, almost identical to any other, was torn apart in a blaze of fire. A wordless scream echoed through the Hall. No one was left unmoved by it.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

"I remember," whispered the one who now claimed to be Valen. "Mitchell, I remember you."
There were no tears in his eyes.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Delenn.
I was watching this. All of it. I could not take my eyes from the scene. They were fighting even though they knew it was futile. I could not escape the scenes I had set in motion. Something was rattling inside my mind, but I could not recall what. Some clue, some hint.... something.... something just beyond my grasp of comprehension.
I had a sudden urge to see one of these humans.... a member of this race which Dukhat had advised us to contact, a member of the race which had killed him, a member of the race we had dedicated our lives to destroying.
"They fight bravely," I said, my heart torn by the words. Some acknowledgement at least was due to them. Something. That was the least I could offer. "They cannot harm our ships, but they continue to try."
Coplann, to my side, shrugged. "Whether they fight or not, they know they will die anyway. So really, is this bravery, or simple desperation?"
I looked at him, wondering at the ways of the warriors, so fixed on their own sense of courage that they could negate so easily the courage of others. "Perhaps they are the same thing," I said firmly.
The idea struck me, as if from beyond. The urge to see one of them. Perhaps a last effort to prevent this. If only we could see what it was we had almost destroyed. Perhaps then we could avert this. If only we could see one of them.
"We should bring one of them aboard for questioning." The words seemed to be coming from outside myself. I did not credit myself with them. It was more as if they were flowing through me, and I was just a conduit. "If our next step is the final assault on their world, we must know their defences."
Coplann seemed surprised, but he was the only other person paying attention to what was happening. Even Morann could not watch the scene with equanimity. Only Shakiri was watching, and his eyes were filled only with glory and triumph.
"Very well, Delenn," Coplann said, uncaring. "Choose, but quickly. We are fast running out of candidates."
I looked out around me, wondering who, and where, praying silently for Valen to guide me. Wishing at that moment for guidance more than I ever had for anything else at any time in my life.
I did not know where....

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

The False Valen stiffened as the images faded. The red-haired human started and tentatively touched his arm.
"I remember," he said again.
"If I'm going out....

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

".... I'm taking you bastards with me!"
The words hung in the air. All eyes turned to the twin visions, as two minds, two memories took shape in the mists all around them. One human, one Minbari.
One Starfury soared forward, seeking the Minbari warship before it, on its way to a chance attack that was meant to change forever after the destiny of both races.
One Satai began to raise her arm to point towards the small craft which filled her vision.
One voice filled the room, a voice that caused Sinoval to wince, and Delenn to start.
<The truth points to itself.>
And history changed. Destiny faded. All that was, and is, and yet may be was altered; irrevocably, eternally, forever.
The pendulum swung. Destiny moved.
<The truth points to itself.>
Delenn chose.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

The Past.
And twelve years ago, as history changed, the two Vorlons in Dukhat's secret chamber, who once had been called the future, realised in that one, fateful moment, that the future they knew now belonged elsewhere, and a new future was theirs.
And the seeds of a bargain were struck.