There must be hope for the future, and there could be no hope for the future without memory of the past. The Machine would provide both. If one survived to occupy it.

Varn had seen the stars, he had scanned throughout the galaxy, seen the beings that walked through the sands at Sigma 957, seen the ancient force returning to power at Z’ha’dum, seen the Vorlons readying themselves, seen the Minbari and the humans, and the Narns and the Centauri, all fighting their own little wars, but preludes to the Great War. A Darkness was coming. Varn had never claimed to be a champion of Light, but the one who came after him would have to be.

But Varn was dying, and he could not reach out far enough or long enough to touch those he needed, and so he had sent out his servants, the custodians of the Machine. He had sent out ten, but only two still lived, and only those two had reached those they were sent for. One was returning now, but the other… the other had made a detour. Varn did not understand. Zathras had known the importance of his mission. G’Kar had been made to understand and had agreed to come, so why had they altered their path?

And why were they heading for a world that had welcomed the Darkness into its own heart?

Captain John Sheridan was trying very hard not to run into anybody. Hiding was a skill he had taken great care to learn – in a galaxy where every Minbari in existence wanted him dead, it was a useful survival trait – but he had managed to use it when necessary in his own corridors of power. The Main Dome of Proxima 3, a place that was – in theory – his home. In practice, his home was the EAS Babylon, last heavy class warship to survive the war with the Minbari, and last, best hope for humanity. The Babylon seemed almost a part of him by now, after he had commanded it for over fourteen years, since the beginning of the war, and he was used to its little quirks and idiosyncrasies. Oh, all his crew had to do to find him was send a message to his link, but that wasn’t the point. He could hide if he wanted to. Here… here was a very different matter. He was not in charge here. Here, on Proxima 3, he was answerable to the Resistance Government, and here he couldn’t hide from them, although he tried as often as he could.

It wasn’t just the Resistance Government he was hiding from, however. He was also hiding from his wife Anna. If he was lucky, she was simply very drunk by now, and willing to insult him and everything he held dear, including their dead daughter, Elizabeth. If he was unlucky, she was sober and quiet and loving and nearly the woman he had married. Those brief periods of normality hurt worse than any barbed remark or drunken argument, because they were reminders of times he could never have back.

He was also hiding from Marcus. The man had sworn himself as his personal bodyguard. Everyone else around Sheridan seemed to take this as fact and gave Marcus the same accord they gave all the other members of his command staff. It was annoying and downright infuriating sometimes, but Marcus at least meant well. Sheridan understood that Marcus was, at the moment, being cornered by Miss Alexander in yet another stage of her relentless pursuit of him. He silently wished her every luck, and acknowledged that she would need it. He had seen corpses less stiff than Marcus.

He was also hiding from Susan, a meeting he definitely did not want. Ever since his return from the Narn homeworld a few months ago, he had been experiencing grave doubts about Susan’s mysterious friends, accepted by the Resistance Government as allies against the Minbari. Delenn had been trying to warn him about them ever since he had captured her from the Minbari homeworld. Well, fair enough. Ivanova had said that the Minbari and the… others – he would have to find a decent name for them soon – were ancient enemies, and it did make sense that the Minbari wouldn’t want what was left of the Earth Alliance having any allies at all.

But then he had met G’Kar. Greatest hero of the Narn / Centauri War that had ended in bloody stalemate a few years ago. G’Kar had disappeared from view immediately after the war. Sheridan had met him as a preacher, ostensibly preaching a creed of his religion to fellow Narns while secretly running an underground network of agents whose purpose seemed to be preparing for the return of Susan’s friends. G’Kar’s words – and something else, the vision he could barely remember except in his dreams – had reached something within Sheridan, something he wasn’t sure still existed.

And someone else had managed to touch him as well. Satai Delenn, brought here in chains forged by Sheridan himself, questioned and tortured, mentally and physically, she had coaxed from him the first act of kindness he had ever displayed to a Minbari. Food, drink and sleep. He had listened to her, spoken to her, and eventually had her removed from her cell and given a secure room aboard the Babylon. He had caught seven kinds of hell from the Resistance Government for that, but they all knew that there was nothing they could do to him. He was Captain John Sheridan after all, greatest hope of the human race. What could they do to him – demotion? Court-martial? No, he was safe enough. From the Resistance Government as well, although if what Satai Delenn and G’Kar were saying was true, then no one would be safe soon.

So, and this was the sixty-four thousand dollar question: why wasn’t he broaching these concerns to the Resistance Government themselves instead of keeping them quiet? Answer: they wouldn’t listen to him, and he wasn’t even sure if he should. He had seen the work of Ivanova’s friends at first hand. Two Minbari cruisers destroyed in a matter of seconds. Power like that was worthy of respect, and for the moment at least, they were the allies of humanity. If they could be kept that way, all well and good. If not… then he would be ready for them.

He’d have to be.

Thinking all this over had taken time and effort, and so he was taking care to hide. Delenn was on board the Babylon, Marcus was being hunted down by Miss Alexander, the Resistance Government was meeting with Susan over matters of deployments, treaties and so on, Anna was anywhere but not here, and Commander Corwin – his XO – was holding Starfury exercises with Lieutenants Franklin and Connally.

All was quiet, but he knew that things would not stay that way. He was hiding, waiting and preparing himself for the inevitable explosion.

Sure enough, his link activated. It was Corwin. David knew – as did everyone on the Babylon – that when Sheridan went to ground, nothing bar the sudden arrival of twenty Minbari cruisers should disturb him.

This wasn’t the arrival of twenty Minbari cruisers. This was worse.

“I must say,” Sheridan was saying, “I’m surprised you didn’t give us any notification you were coming. Security here is as tight as ever. If I’d known in advance…”

“That would not be possible,” his guest said. “There are certain… individuals here who would not be receptive to my presence. We hitched a lift aboard a cargo ship whose captain is a part of my network. He asked no questions, and I sent a message to Commander Corwin, arranging for us to be brought on board.”

Sheridan sat back and looked at his guest. G’Kar had apparently recovered from the injuries that had so nearly killed him a few months back. He was moving like a perfectly fit man, but there was something in his eyes. A steely determination that had always been there, and a quiet terror that had not.

“Who is us?” he asked. “You didn’t bring Neroon here?” He still found it hard to accept that one of G’Kar’s most trusted agents was a Minbari.

“Oh no, that would… not be wise. He and Ta’Lon are still working on the rebuilding of our fortifications in the G’Khorazhar Mountains. I have brought along a most… interesting companion.”