Satai Delenn was lost in days past, remembering the war, remembering her cry. ‘Kill them! Kill them all!’ Remembering the light in Neroon’s eyes die as he left her side. Remembering the wisdom in Draal’s speech. Remembering…

She gasped as another shock hit her. Looking up, she saw Boggs, standing there silently. He was enjoying her pain, but he did not show it. Delenn grasped the edge of the table and tried to suck in air. Her breathing was harsh and ragged.

She slipped back into the past.

“I have seen things,” Neroon had said. “I nearly died there. I was alone and afraid, and thinking of you. Thinking of the third night of sleep watching, thinking of…”

Another shock, but too soon surely? Could she keep track of time? Could she even remember time any longer? Did it matter?

“G’Kar spoke to me. He said things. It made sense. He knows about the Enemy, Delenn. He knows, and he is making preparations. I always thought that we were the only ones who could fight the war that is coming. I was wrong. G’Kar is building his own army, his own agents and spies. His own Rangers even. Most are Narns, but there are a few others – Drazi mainly, but even an Earther or two, and a few Centauri.

“Delenn, how can everything I believed in be so wrong? He knows, he understands. His writings, the Book of G’Quan… they have known for a millennium. I always thought that we alone were fit to lead the war. I was wrong.

“Delenn, I will join him. My life was saved by one of his agents and I must repay the debt. His words have touched me, and I feel a calling to his side, to serve him. It is a calling, Delenn. I have spoken to Branmer, and he understands. Please, Delenn, tell me that you do.”

“I…” She had been unsure of what to say, what to do. “My place is here.”

“I know,” had come his whispered reply. “I know.”

Another gasp. She was so tired, so very tired. She could not find the peace for meditation. All she wanted to do was sleep. What had Welles said? ’At least you will be spared dreams.’ He had been wrong. So very wrong.

It had been a bargain, a simple bargain. One human life. What did that one life matter? Why that one? It had not been important, the Vorlon had said. It had not mattered. She had needed to be sure before she went to the Grey Council. She had needed to be sure, and so the Vorlon had shown himself to her. Her doubts had receded, but now they returned.

One human life against so many. How much blood? How many dead? Why did the Vorlons want that life?

The other half of our soul. Sheridan and Sinoval… so very alike. Welles… how much he looked like Neroon – his voice, his face, his bearing. Sheridan and Sinoval, like a mirror. A dark, distorted mirror. The other half of our soul… humans? No, that was impossible. A blasphemy.

But she had been about to test it. She had taken a Triluminary, only now that was lost too. So much lost, and nothing more lost than she herself. How many dead? How many lost? How many?

The other half of my soul. Neroon? Was he the other half of my soul? Who? Why did she not understand? Who? What? Too many questions and not even she had the answers.

Valen help me. Valen… I will not allow harm to come to my little ones, not here in my great house… Valen’s Name… the other half of my soul… Sheridan and Sinoval… not here in my great house… the other half of my soul… Minbari not born of Minbari… the other half of my soul… here in my great house… my soul… not born of Minbari… my great house…

As another shock tore through Delenn’s body, her mind reached a realisation that both terrified and disgusted her. She knew. Oh, Valen, she knew, at last.

A Minbari not born of Minbari… In my great house… the other half of my soul.

Valen was human!

Sheridan had never seen a beast like that before, huge and dark and only faintly visible. He remembered something else, something equally dark and almost invisible, that had struck down Delenn. It had been a different shape – less humanoid – but it had been similar. All too similar.

The thought faded and he saw only battle. His initial PPG blasts had little effect on the creature, but they were serving to distract it from the Narn who lay, bleeding, on the floor. G’Kar? Almost certainly. The beast turned to face Sheridan, and he caught a sudden, frantic glimpse of his own mortality. It was a terrifying moment, but one he had known countless times before in battle.

The beast lunged forward, and he fired. Again the blasts had no effect, and his legs coiled, ready to propel him out of the way. He had not guessed how fast the thing would be. It smashed into his side and knocked him back. He stumbled, and the PPG fell from his grasp. Abandoning the weapon for the moment, he rolled away and staggered to his feet.

The beast was ignoring him. His back and side were unguarded. It could have torn him apart, but it didn’t. It lunged at Neroon and Ta’Lon, neither of whom had long-range weaponry. Neroon lashed out with that metal pike of his, and Sheridan heard an audible crack as it hit the creature. For a moment it seemed fazed, and Ta’Lon leapt in, striking with his sword, thrusting it into what would be its chest.

Casually disdaining the wound, the beast clawed out at Ta’Lon, lifting him effortlessly into the air and hurling him back. The Narn struck the far wall, and tried to stagger to his feet. Neroon hit out again with his pike, but the blow had little effect.

Sheridan blinked, and his warrior instincts returned. Looking around frantically, he saw his PPG and scooped it up. Turning to face the beast, he unleashed a barrage of shots at desperately close range. There was a sound that might have been a cry of pain, and the beast turned.

Neroon used this opportunity to lash out, striking the beast with his pike, again and again. Sheridan dived under flailing – well, he assumed they were arms – and staggered to his feet behind Neroon, luring the beast into a position where Neroon would be able to strike its chest.

PPG blasts, thrusts, lunges and blows. The beast was falling back. Neroon was following up, but compared to the beast he might have been made out of wood.

There was a blur of motion, and Neroon fell. It looked as though he was bleeding. Sheridan was fumbling with the energy cap of his PPG, and he looked up as the beast towered over Neroon. Acting on pure instinct, never caring that this was a Minbari, he dropped his PPG and scooped up Neroon’s pike. Looking up at the beast, which still seemed vaguely reluctant to attack him, he thrust out with the pike.

The beast roared and tumbled backwards. Sheridan looked at the pike in mute horror, and found it stained with what he could only suppose was blood. He looked down and saw the beast, for one, hideous moment, in full visibility.

He was nearly sick.

Others had different concerns. Ta’Lon pulled himself up from the floor, wincing at every movement. The force of the impact had undoubtedly shattered bones, but he seemed to pay them no attention.

“Ha’Cormar’ah G’Kar!” he cried out, and half-ran, half-staggered forward. Neroon was also rising and looking to G’Kar. As did Sheridan.

The fallen Narn was not moving, not even breathing.

“You don’t know it failed. G’Kar might be dead. He might never recover. Sheridan? Yes, I know… look… he’s a warrior. He’s trained to fight, so of course he’d fight the Warrior. No… no… he can still be a valuable ally to us. He is still a valuable ally. It’s just curiosity, that’s all. He wants to know who betrayed him on Vega Seven.

“I’ll see to G’Kar, if he’s still alive, and I’ll arrange matters with Sheridan. Trust me? No, you mustn’t act personally. There’s a Vorlon around, remember. Yes, I know! Don’t worry. Everything’s under control.”