“Captain, someone’s just tried to kill your Minbari guest.”

“It was Maya Hernandez,” Dr. Kyle said. “She was trying to corrupt the blood we were giving her with Metazine. It’s a painkiller and soporific for humans, but it can be deadly to Minbari, especially in large doses.”

“Mind telling me why you never mentioned this little biological weakness before, Doctor?”

Kyle shot Sheridan an angry look. “I heal, Captain. I do not kill. Besides, Metazine is only effective in the bloodstream. Not a very useful weapon really.”

“Aw hell. I know, I know. I’m sorry, Doctor. Things have been a little… weird lately. Where is Dr. Hernandez now?”

“No idea. She fled as soon as I caught her.”

“Any idea why she did it?”

“Her husband and son died on Earth. Maybe she’s just seen too much of this war.”

“We all have.” Sheridan turned to Corwin. “Have her found and locked up.”

“Yes, sir.” Corwin had looked uncomfortable ever since he had linked his message to Sheridan. “Will you want this done before or after I come back from the planet?”

“You won’t be going to the planet, Mr. Corwin. I’ll need you to run things here. I’ll be going.”

“Captain! Have you forgotten what happened the last time you went down there?”

“No, and I’m not likely to. Trust me, Mr. Corwin.”

“But you can’t go alone.”

“I don’t think five life-signs are going to be much of a threat. Besides, I won’t be going alone. She’s coming with me.” He pointed to Delenn, sitting impassively on a chair at the end of her bed. Her hands were manacled together, but her face was expressionless and calm. “I’m not letting her out of my sight. She has too much information to let her die, and no, Mr. Corwin, she is not going to run off anywhere. I’ll take a full Security team down to the planet with me if you insist, but that will be all. Good day, Mr. Corwin. You,” he looked at Delenn. “Come with me.”

Silently, her face as calm as ever, she rose and followed him, looking as tranquil in her dignity as she did proud in her chains.

Minbari… damned Minbari… destroyed Earth… finished Earth… ruined it… killed everyone…

Killed…

Katherine, come on Katherine! Wake up, Katherine… You can’t die on me. Joseph’s dead. You can’t die too. Please, Katherine.

Please.

Minbari… Katherine… Joseph dead… Earth dead… Earth gone… Everyone gone… but me… I’m here… I’m always here… Katherine… I… I love you, Katherine… I love you, Katherine… you can’t die…

Everyone around him was dead, and so was the man called Marcus Cole. But his death was not the death of flesh, but the death of spirit, the death of futile dreams and ambitions and hopes.

For Marcus Cole, something new and terrible was being born.

“What do you think happened here?” Delenn remained silent, staring straight ahead. Sheridan looked at her calm demeanour and wished he possessed the same. He could not look at the burnt buildings, the rubble, the devastation, the nightmare that had once been Vega 7, and maintain anything other than a slow, simmering anger. So like Earth. This was so like Earth.

Landing the shuttle had been difficult, with so little flat space. But land it they had, and now they were walking through rubble and devastation, stepping over crushed and burned bodies, heading for the SOS signal Corwin had identified. Vega 7 was rubble, and Sheridan could not help but wonder if this had happened in spite of his actions, or because of them.

There was a sound to his left and he spun, holding his PPG ready. One of the security guards had done the same. Sheridan gestured for him to lower his weapon and he moved forward, the other slowly following him. This place had once been a home. One body lay half-buried under what had been a wall. Sheridan could see dried blood everywhere. There was another body not far away, a woman, her skull crushed. And kneeling over her, whispering something over and over again, was a man, tears of pain and agony running down his cheeks into his short black beard. He looked up, and for a brief instant Sheridan saw himself reflected in those eyes. Himself as he had been.

“My name’s John Sheridan,” he said, slowly lowering his PPG. One out of five.

“The Starkiller,” the man whispered. “She’s dead. They’re all dead.”

“Who was it? What happened here?”

“Minbari. Must have been. Didn’t see them, but who else could it have been? Minbari… Minbari… I’m Marcus… Marcus Cole.”

“Do you have anywhere we can take you to? Family, perhaps, on another world?”

“All dead. All gone except me.” He had a slightly strange accent, and Sheridan realised it was English. He hadn’t heard an English accent in years. “Everyone’s gone except me. And you. Help me, Starkiller. Help me to kill them all.”

Hatred. Such a cycle. It never ended, did it? Sheridan had said similar words after the death of his daughter. Could anyone ever find the courage to break free of the old ways, the old cycles, the old vendettas? Could Sheridan himself? Perhaps he didn’t want to.

“I’ll do what I can,” he said simply. “You’ll be welcome aboard the Babylon, Mr. Cole.”

“Thank you.”

“We can… arrange to have these bodies buried, if you’d like.”

“Leave them. Just shells. Nothing more. Can I help you at all?”

“Do you know the way to the main bureaucratic centre here? I need to know if anyone survived there.”

“Yes, it’s this way. Follow me.” Sheridan marvelled at Marcus’ stilted, precise delivery. Such control should be impossible after such loss, and sooner or later the grief must burst free again. Sheridan half expected it to happen when he saw Delenn, but he simply ignored her.

Marcus led them through rubble-strewn streets and over battered bodies. He must have known some of the dead, but he said nothing. It was as though the destruction of his home planet had destroyed his spirit as well. Sheridan looked at Delenn, but she was also silent. Had the Minbari done this? Could they have done this? This was just like Earth. So like Earth.

And there they were. Franklin and Connally, working over two slumped forms. One was Narn, the other…

“Oh my God,” Sheridan breathed. “How is he, Stephen?”

“Not good.” Sheridan made a gesture, and the doctor Kyle had insisted he bring rushed forward. He and Franklin began working over Keffer’s body. He was moaning, but softly this time. And then Sheridan saw the Narn. It was Na’Far.

“He hasn’t been saying much,” Connally said. “He’s dying as well. Whatever you want him to tell you, you’d better ask him now, Captain.”

Sheridan cast one last look at his crewman and scrambled towards the Narn who had betrayed him. His legs were crushed, and his face was burned and blistered. There was such loss and grief in his blood-red eyes. “G’Quan forgive me,” he whispered in a Narn dialect Sheridan understood. “G’Quan… protect me.”

“What happened here? Who did this?”

“The enemy… ancient and dark… The enemy… ah, G’Quan forgive me… should have listened… should have listened… Listen to… Minbari… they… know…” The words trailed off, and Sheridan looked up. He hadn’t heard the last two words, but what he had heard was enough.

“Damn!” he heard Franklin swear. Sheridan didn’t need to be told. Keffer was dead.

“We… were being kept underground,” Connally was saying. “I don’t know how we survived. But… Warren… he was slower than we were… that blow earlier hit him pretty hard. He couldn’t move fast enough, and when the wall came down…”

Sheridan turned away, still and quiet. Everything else seemed irrelevant. He heard Marcus say something to Connally and Connally reply. Franklin and the doctor were talking softly, but the only words which reached his ears were from Delenn.