Security Officer Boggs nodded.

Welles rose from his seat and made his way to the door. As he reached it, Delenn spoke. “The word you tried to avoid saying… was… torture,” she whispered. Her voice was hoarse.

“Were this your capital, and I in your place, would I be any better off than you?” he asked coldly. She nodded her head, and then cried out as another shock hit her.

“Think of it this way, Satai Delenn. If you do not sleep, then you cannot dream. I wish that were true of me. A pleasant rest, Satai Delenn. Mr. Boggs.”

And then he was gone. Delenn looked up at her sole guardian and almost wept at his quiet impassivity. She remembered how he had hurt her, beating and kicking her. He had enjoyed it, but he had not done so for that alone. He had done so for the good of his people. He only wanted to serve his people and his home.

Valen’s Name, she thought. What have we created? What have I done?

Ta’Lon knelt beside the body and looked at it slowly, studying the horrific damage. Rising, he looked around at the others, scattered and ravaged. He was silent. Standing beside him, Neroon was whispering something about Valen. Marcus was hunched over, retching loudly. And Sheridan… he was simply standing, dumbfounded. It reminded him of Vega 7, but not even the deaths there had touched him like these. These bodies had been torn apart, literally ripped almost limb from limb. Sheridan had little fondness for Narns, but nobody deserved this, not even Minbari.

“What could have done this?” Marcus asked. He looked pale.

“You should know,” replied Neroon. He had extended his fighting pike – similar to the one Susan had taken from Delenn. “You’ve seen them before.”

“The black ship? The ship that screamed?”

“More or less.” Ta’Lon was still looking around warily. “This was one of their servants. A Warrior, I think.”

Without saying anything further, he and Neroon began walking quickly towards the small compound that nestled at the head of the valley, looking like a cross between a temple and a castle. Sheridan knew this was where G’Kar lived, and ran his collection of agents.

Was this the work of Susan’s friends? Of humanity’s last hope? Why would they…? No, this was an internal matter, them against G’Kar. They wouldn’t turn against humanity. What reason would they have to do that?

Still, Susan had said that her friends were moving slowly, anxious not to turn attention to themselves. Was G’Kar really so much of a threat that they would risk alerting to others to their presence like this?

Sheridan took out his PPG and began running to catch up with Neroon and Ta’Lon. Marcus was beside him, his expression of disgust and terror replaced with a cold anger. Perhaps Neroon and Ta’Lon were right, and Marcus had seen these creatures before, at Vega 7.

Too many questions, and not enough answers. There were never enough answers.

Commander David Corwin was irritated. He did not like Narns, he did not like their homeworld and he did not like hanging around on the Babylon. He had been doing far too much of that recently, just hanging around while the Captain was off somewhere.

This was worse than usual, however. The Captain had not been heard from in over a day. He hadn’t responded when Corwin had tried to make his daily report. Councillor Na’Toth had simply said that Sheridan had left G’Khamazad on an intelligence mission, and that he would return in a few days. Corwin wasn’t sure if he trusted her, but he was wise enough not to say that to her face, even over a commscreen. He was keeping a close eye out for any sign of Minbari cruisers, but the only traffic had been usual Narn stuff. He had also sent small teams down to the planet to try to investigate. He’d heard back from none of them yet.

“Commander!” spoke up Lieutenant Franklin. “There’s a private message for you. It’s from Miss Ivanova.”

“Susan!” She hadn’t been heard of since yesterday either. If Corwin ran to the ready room a little faster than was safe or appropriate for one of his rank, no one commented on it. What had been between him and Susan was over, right? It had ended when she died.

He slid into his seat in the ready room and activated the viewscreen. Susan’s face stared out at him. He resisted an urge simply to gaze into her beauty and focussed on what he had to say. This was important. It concerned the Captain.

“What’s been happening?” he asked. “Councillor Na’Toth said…”

“Whatever Councillor Na’Toth said, it was probably a lie,” Susan interjected. “I don’t know what happened, but she set John up. He’s no longer in G’Khamazad, I’m certain of it, but I know he’s alive.”

“You know? How?”

“I…” She looked pained. “I can’t go into it. I just know. I’ll try to track him down. I don’t think there are any Minbari involved this time. It’s probably something political with the Kha’Ri. Maybe they aren’t willing to shelter us any more. Don’t worry, David, I’ll do what I can. Please don’t come down. You’re safe up there. You won’t be safe down here.”

“Susan! I… Be careful.”

She smiled. “Thank you. You too. I’ll keep in contact as often as I can. Out.”

Susan switched off her commscreen and looked around her in anger and sorrow. Beside her, a shadow moved.

G’Kar knew that he was dying, that the Enemy had come for him at last. He could have asked questions, about how they had found him, about how they knew about him, about why he was still alive, but questions were pointless at the moment. What mattered was survival, not just his own, but the survival of all he had built.

He fingered his wound gently and gingerly. He seemed to be getting older. A small injury like this had never hurt him back when he was fighting the Centauri. Or had it? Was a war of attrition like that preferable to a silent, secret war like this?

“G’Quan guide me,” he whispered, as he ducked into the shadows of his spartan room. The Book of G’Quan lay on the table across the room. He looked at it longingly and began to whisper the words found within.

“There is a greater darkness than the one we fight…” He had wounded the beast, he knew that. That was why he was still alive. He had dropped the knife somewhere, during his flight. The beast, it could be anywhere. He had recognised it from its brief moment of visibility as one of the servants of the Enemy, spoken of by G’Quan.

There was a sound outside the door, and he looked around desperately for any sign of a weapon. His rooms were almost bare. Where was his ally? The Vorlon was around somewhere, but never when needed. Surely G’Lan had sensed the arrival of his old enemy? Unless he could not interfere. Yes, maybe that was it. Maybe this was a test for G’Kar, a trial to see whether he was worthy to face the Enemy.

There was a shimmering as the beast came through the walls, and he rolled aside, wincing at the pain from his wound. He could dimly make out the outline of the Shadow Warrior. It had no long-range weapons, that was something to be thankful for, at least. G’Kar had hope. He always had hope.

Grasping for the candles, he pulled one down. It was still lit. A poor weapon, but all he had. Thrusting forward with it, he forced the beast back. It issued a hideous roar. He looked up at its abominable form and whispered a silent prayer to G’Quan.

It didn’t work. The candle broke and fell, the little light it gave failing. G’Kar tried to halt his lunge forward, but it was too late. The beast caught him and ripped into his side. An anguished cry of pain was torn from his lips as he was thrown backwards, his back smashing against the stone table. Collapsed on the floor, he looked up.

There was the sound of PPG fire, and a cry in the name of Valen, and of G’Quan. G’Kar smiled. His prayer had been answered after all.