“Now,” Hague heard Welles say. “Tell me about the other members of the Grey Council.”

There was a man waiting outside the room, a tall man with long hair and a short black beard. “Your guards wouldn’t let me in,” he said in a English accent. “I swore I’d never let you out of my sight, Captain. How can I fulfill that vow if you won’t let me near you?”

“I’m sorry, Marcus,” Sheridan said. “I just… needed to be alone, that’s all.” Hague looked at the man – Marcus? – and noticed a flinty gaze staring at Sheridan, but something behind the gaze, like a wild animal waiting to be released.

The four of them walked slowly through the corridors of the Government building to Hague’s personal office. As they entered, Hague looked sharply at Marcus. Hague had never seen the man before and Sheridan was notoriously evasive in his reports, but Sheridan obviously trusted him, and getting rid of him would be difficult. Hague flicked a gaze at Lyta. She could be trusted, and keeping secrets from a telepath was never advisable. It was time to bring up a subject that Hague personally disliked.

“So, Captain. What do you think about our new allies?”

“Susan’s alien friends? I don’t know. We need allies though, and these are powerful. Very powerful.”

“Perhaps. What about Susan herself? Do you trust her?”

“Trust? Yes, I suppose so. She helped me escape from Minbar, and Commander Corwin knows and trusts her. I thought you knew her?”

“I did. She was assigned to General Franklin’s personal staff a few years ago. She was a part of the Babylon Two mission – explorations out on the Rim, that sort of thing. She disappeared there. We thought she was dead.”

“Obviously she isn’t. General, all the details you need should be in my report.”

“Yes. I read it. It was very… inventive. If you don’t mind me saying, you seem strangely… reticent about this, Captain.”

“I don’t know. It’s just…” Sheridan paused, and closed his eyes slowly. “It’s just nothing. You know me, General. I’m always paranoid.”

“Yes, Captain. I know you. So what plans have you got now?”

“I’d like to take the Babylon to the Narn homeworld. If that meets with the Resistance Government’s approval, of course?”

Sarcasm. Such a wonderful thing. As if Sheridan would stay here if Hague didn’t give permission. “You know I can’t let you risk your ship to fulfill a personal vendetta against the Narns, Captain.”

“I wasn’t planning on doing so. The Kha’Ri have to be told about the Vega Seven incident by someone who was there. Me… and Marcus. If they believe the colony was attacked by the Minbari, they may come around to giving us some proper help at last.”

“And if you should happen to find out who gave the orders to have you captured, then that would be a fortunate coincidence? Very well, Captain, I realise there’s little I can do to stop you, but please don’t antagonise the Kha’Ri. We are only here on their sufferance, after all.”

“I won’t.”

“Good, then when will you depart?”

“As soon as repairs on the Babylon are complete. A few days, I guess. I’d like to take Miss Ivanova with me.”

“Really? She’s in meetings with the Resistance Government for the next few days, arranging matters of treaties and agreements between us and her friends.”

“She asked to come along.”

“Oh? Well, I’m sure I’ll be able to arrange it, Captain. Good. You might like to check in with Anna while you’re here.” A flash of anguish in Sheridan’s expression and Hague nearly smiled. The Starkiller was not as invulnerable as people might think. Everyone had their Achilles heel. “She’s been asking about you a lot.”

“I’ll… get around to it. Good day, General.”

“Captain.”

As Sheridan and Marcus left his office, Hague saw Lyta come up beside him. She still looked a little haggard, but there was a new curiosity in her step. “General, do you know who that man with Captain Sheridan was?”

“No more than you. His name’s Marcus and he was a survivor from the Vega Seven massacre. Why?”

“Oh, nothing.” She smiled, slyly and secretly. “Nothing at all.”

“Doesn’t want to see me. Doesn’t even want to know I’m here.”

“He just died. Right from under me.”

“Doesn’t even know I’m here.”

“The life just went out of him. Just like that.”

“We were together for years. She gave me a kiss when she came back.”

“A friend, he was, another friend I couldn’t save.”

“A proper kiss. She used to say she loved me. What’s changed?”

“I saw God reflected in his eyes. He looked so scared.”

“She won’t speak to me, won’t come anywhere near me. I mean, we’ve been busy, but surely she could find some time?”

“I saw God…”

Commander David Corwin and Lieutenant Stephen Franklin looked up at each other. Slowly and solemnly they drained their drinks, and then ordered another each.

Time to get this over with, Sheridan thought as he entered the rooms in the barracks that had been officially designated as being his. He could have claimed much larger ones, of course. After all, he was humanity’s greatest captain. And the only heavy class captain. Larger quarters were unnecessary, however, especially when he spent so little time there.

One of the reasons why was already inside.

“Hello, Anna,” he said, his voice carefully guarded.

“Oh look,” she whispered, turning to greet him. “It’s John Sheridan. The Starkiller. Well, hello, Johnny. Better late than never. Two days and you finally decide to come and see your wife.”

“Anna, you’re drunk.”

“Of course I’m drunk! I’m always drunk, aren’t I? Nothing else to do, not like you. Not like the Starkiller. Always so perfect.”

Sheridan sat down on the edge of the bed and looked up at her. Her lovely red hair was a mess, her eyes were tired and she smelled of cheap Narn liquor and sweat. He turned his gaze away, not wanting to look at her like that any longer. “How have you been?”

“Same as ever,” she replied. “You know me. I never change, do I?”

But she had changed. Ever since Elizabeth. He had turned hard and cold, alive only in battle. She had turned to the bottle. Who was to say that his way was any better than hers?

“No,” he whispered, agreeing with her. “Things never change.”

“Glad to hear it.” She sat down next to him. “How long are you here for?”

“A few days only.”

“Oh, I see. Off again. Can’t stand to be by your lousy drunken disgrace of a wife, is that it? Well, fine! Go away! You were a lousy husband and a lousy father. If you’d been better, maybe Liz would still be here. Still be here…”

He spun around and lifted his fist without even realising what he was doing. Then something caught him. The faint smell of orange blossom. In her more lucid moments Anna sprinkled it around the room, possibly to get rid of the smell of the liquor, but maybe because it reminded them both of his father’s garden, and happier times. It also reminded him of Delenn, who gave off that same sweet scent.

He realised what he was doing and lowered his fist. She had not even noticed, but he had. He had never once hit Anna. Never even thought about it. He rose and stormed out of the room, disgusted with himself, and silently thanking Delenn’s spirit for bringing him to his senses. When he realised what he was doing, he cursed her instead.

Anna lay there still, half asleep, half conscious, a fragment of her mind remembering what she had been and hating herself for becoming this… creature, but she no longer had the willpower to resist. She could no longer imagine anything else.

But someone else could. The door opened and she stirred. “John?” But it wasn’t John. It was a woman. An attractive, brown-haired woman.

“Hello,” the visitor said. “You must be Anna. I’m Susan. Susan Ivanova.”