“We first discovered evidence that the Shadows were returning shortly after the attack on your homeworld. We uncovered a vessel of the Enemy’s buried deep under the soil of your red planet. It sent out a beacon to Z’ha’dum, and we destroyed it.

“There was another Shadow vessel in your solar system, hidden in a moon of your largest planet. That one also awoke, and the Shadows sent a ship to retrieve it. We were waiting, and we were defeated. Four of our greatest ships were destroyed, with contemptuous ease. We knew that the Great War spoken of by Valen was coming, and we knew that we had to be ready.

“And so we began to prepare. The Rangers, last formed a thousand years ago, were reformed, consisting of Minbari from all three castes, but predominantly the warriors. To lead them, we chose Branmer, greatest of our Warleaders, but he was greatest of all in that he was a Warleader with no love of war. He was admired and respected and led the Rangers well. As his aide, I was always at his side. I was a Ranger. I went out on missions, evaluating the power of the Shadows, gathering knowledge, creating alliances.

“Four cycles ago, I was on a mission to one of the Markab worlds. The Markab also knew about the Shadows, and they were dying of a mysterious plague. I had been sent to recover certain artifacts, which might prove to be beneficial against the Shadows. Others were there, too. Agents of the Enemy. One was a human woman, fair of face. There is an old saying among my people. ’Evil sometimes wears a pleasant face.’

“She knew what I wanted, and she wanted the same. We fought and I killed her, but there was something which resided inside her. The same beast we defeated today. It attacked me, and nearly killed me. I was left to die, wounded and alone, on an alien world.

“But I did not die. I was saved by Ta’Lon. He too was in pursuit of these artifacts, and he knew about the Rangers. He bandaged my wounds and healed me, and when I asked him why, he said it was because we fight the same war.

“And then he told me. We were not the only ones who knew of the Shadows. Another did. G’Kar. He was gathering his own forces, in secret, paving the way. Ta’Lon brought me here, to see G’Kar, and I experienced a revelation. I had been wrong. In my arrogance, I had been very wrong. We were not the right ones to lead in the war. Already the Rangers were falling apart. Branmer was ill, and I knew I could not lead. That would leave one such as Sinoval, or Kalain, and the Rangers would become a political tool, and not an Army of Light.

“And I returned to Minbar. I spoke with Branmer and he told me that I must follow my heart. And then I spoke with Delenn, and we parted, and I came here, and I have served G’Kar and his dream ever since, because it is right. I have sacrificed my love, my rank, and my title, but I know that this is right.”

Neroon finished his story and looked at Sheridan, who simply stared back. Delenn? He had known Delenn? And all this about the Darkness and the Shadows. That was who Susan’s friends were. Of course, she had told him much of this, but how much was true, and how much simply lies? Why would G’Kar fight the Shadows? Why?

“I’m not sure whether to believe you,” Sheridan replied.

“Then by all means, do not. Believe G’Kar. When he recovers, he will want to talk to you.”

“He’s dying. Can’t you see that? Who can help him, out here?”

“He can.” Neroon pointed and Sheridan turned. He started, and simply stared.

He’d never seen a Vorlon before.

There will be a price to pay, the Vorlon said as it stood over G’Kar’s body. He is dying. He will be dead. There will be a price.

“It will be paid,” Neroon assured it.

Yes, it said.

Sheridan was not quite sure what happened next. The Vorlon’s encounter suit began to open, and there was a blinding light. He staggered back, covering his eyes, and when he opened them again G’Kar was standing – unsteadily, true, but he was standing – and the Vorlon’s encounter suit was closed.

“Thank you, my friend,” G’Kar whispered.

The Vorlon made a gesture that might have been a nod, and turned. It hesitated when it saw him, and seemed to study him. Then it looked away.

“What… what did you see?” Sheridan asked. “What do they look like?”

But before he could get an answer, the Vorlon turned to him again. Learn, it said.

A force threw him against the far wall. The Vorlon’s eye socket blazed brilliantly and he felt the surroundings fade around him.

It was a dead world, barren and wasted.

Z’ha’dum.

“That’s… that’s the homeworld of the Shadows. But that’s where… There’s her ship. That’s it, isn’t it?”

Yes.

“What’s… what’s happening? Oh my God. She’s waking them up, isn’t she? She’s waking them…”

The image faded and Sheridan fell, slumping to the floor. “Why did you show me that?” he asked. There was no reply.

“He knows,” spoke up G’Kar suddenly. “The Vorlons know everything there is to know about everything. Welcome, Captain. This meeting has been long in coming.”

Sheridan looked at G’Kar. The Narn was hobbling, limping and holding his side tenderly, but he could easily see the force of personality within him. The same force of personality that had bound people like Ta’Lon and Neroon and Na’Toth to his side.

Suddenly, the Vorlon moved again. “They are here,” it said.

Sheridan felt a familiar play around the corner of his mind. There was a sudden pain and he collapsed. He knew the Vorlon was responsible, and he looked up at it.

“Leave… me… alone!” he cried.

They are here, was its only reply. You must be ready.

“Who are…?” And then he saw her. Entering the room was none other than Ivanova.

“John, are you all right?” she asked, holding a PPG before her. A strange expression of disgust spread over her face when she saw the Vorlon. “What have they been doing to you?”

“Nothing, I…”

Go, the Vorlon said, speaking to Susan. He is not for you. Go! Now!

She opened fire. The PPG blasts were no more than ant-stings to a Vorlon, and it simply concentrated on her. “Come on, John!” she cried. “We can’t stay here all day.”

“But…” he whispered, and then another burst of agony tore through the forefront of his brain.

“Go limp, Captain,” said a familiar voice. It was Marcus. “I’ll get you out of here.”

“Captain,” said G’Kar. “Heed the warning, Captain. Listen to… what…”

Sheridan had not heard him. Limp in Marcus’ arms, he was carried away. Neroon and Ta’Lon made to move after them, but G’Kar raised his hand.

Let them go, said the Vorlon. He has a destiny. He will learn it. In time.

“And what do we do now, Ha’Cormar’ah G’Kar?” asked Ta’Lon.

“This place is lost to us,” he said. “But we will rebuild. Remember our purpose.”

Remember, said the Vorlon in agreement. Remember, and learn.

It had been an uneventful return from the G’Khorazhar Mountains for Sheridan, Marcus and Ivanova. They had made their way to a shuttle Susan claimed to have been given by Commander Corwin. It was a short journey by shuttle to the Babylon.

Corwin had not been idle during all this. He had sent agents out into G’Khamazad, and tried to follow what was happening. The major news at the moment was the mysterious death of Councillor Du’Rog. The evidence of the black flower left in his quarters indicated that the death was a political assassination – organised by the Narn guild of assassins, the Thenta Ma’Kur. Who might have paid them was another matter. The affair of the large recent payment to his accounts from agents who could be traced back all the way to the Grey Council, and to Satai Sinoval’s office, and Warmaster Jha’dur of the Dilgar, was not made public. Councillor Na’Toth had managed to clean up her investigation into Sheridan’s betrayal on Vega 7 with no mess. She believed it was merely financial in substance, and reported to that effect to G’Kar. Any involvement by the Enemy was not recognised.