He had so much power, so much potential, but where would it fall? He was walking a thin line between Light and Darkness. One simple push could send him either way. She knew that it was her destiny to bring him to the correct path.

“So,” he said. “What do you know about Babylon Four and what did that title mean? I know you didn’t want to talk about it in front of Corwin, but you are going to have to tell me.”

She breathed in sharply. What to tell him? Could she even accept this herself, and if she could not, then how could he? Could she even expect him to believe her?

“I have… told you before about the Ancient Enemy that we believe is arising,” she said hesitantly. Babylon 4 was looming up in front of their shuttle. She looked up at it, and then down again. Sheridan didn’t reply, and so she continued.

“There was a Great War against the Enemy a thousand years ago. I do… not know how much you have been told about it by your… friend?”

“A little,” he replied tersely. “Not nearly enough, but a little.”

“Ah.” She continued. “We fought in that war, alongside the Vorlons and a few other races. We drove the Enemy from their homeworld of Z’ha’dum and thought we had defeated them. There are a few records remaining of that war. Some of them show this very station, Captain. It was used as a base of operations during the final days of that war… one thousand years ago.”

She had expected disbelief, denial, even anger. She received only a terse grunt. She looked at him, but he was still focussed on the controls.

“You believe me?” she asked.

“Satai, after today, I don’t think anything could surprise me.”

“I… suppose not.”

“Now what about that title? Sah-vahlan?”

“Zha’valen,” she said, correcting his pronunciation. “It means… it means…” She sucked in another deep breath of air. “It means outcast. It means that I am… that I am ’a shadow to Valen’.”

“Not a title you have now?”

“I… do not think so, unless it has been given me in my absence.”

“I see. Well, what’s one more mystery. Hopefully when we find the person who sent that message, we’ll clear this up. And there’s the docking bays. Looks like they made a few modifications to the plans after all. Either that, or my memory’s getting faulty.”

Delenn was silent as Sheridan surrendered the shuttle’s controls to the station’s docking systems – with considerable reluctance, she noticed – and she instead looked up at the station as it swallowed the shuttle.

There was something she had not said. The pieces were starting to fall together in her mind. The space station that had saved her people had been designed and – presumably – built by humans. So what did that make the one who had given it to her people? Did that prove her suspicions?

And how could she expect Sheridan to trust her when she did not trust him?

“Captain,” she said softly. “There is something else I have not told you.” He looked at her. “This station was given to my people and those who were allied to us to fight the Enemy. The one who gave it to us was called Valen.”

“Are you expecting to find Valen here on Babylon Four?”

“I… hope to find… someone.”

“You mean a human. Well, so do I. I’ll think about what you’ve told me, Satai Delenn. If we do find this Valen then… we’ll see.”

She smiled slightly. She had tried to tell him of her beliefs about human and Minbari souls once before. He had either not believed or not cared to listen. Perhaps he was beginning to listen, and beginning to believe.

As they left their docked shuttle, she felt the first surge of hope she had felt since her capture four months ago.

“Should we tell the Captain, sir?”

Corwin shot a glance at Security Officer Zack Allan – Chief of Security aboard the Babylon – and then back at the other figure.

“We can’t,” he replied. “Communications are impossible through that tachyon field. I don’t know what they’re doing to it, but it’s getting less and less stable all the time.”

“Any chance you can get that Narn on the planet to give us a hand, do you think, sir?”

Corwin started. G’Kar – greatest hero of the Narn / Centauri War – had taken custody of Epsilon 3 only a few hours ago, and the massive technological resources with it. Captain Sheridan had given him a run down of most of what had happened, but he hadn’t known who else knew.

“How did you know about that?” he asked.

“Are you kidding, sir? We all saw him just appear in front of us and give his spiel. Weird, it was.”

“Yeah, what isn’t these days?” Great, Corwin thought. The Captain’s going to have enough trouble justifying his failure to the Resistance Government without having to tell the truth about it.

“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” he began, when Zack interrupted him.

“It’s moving!”

The figure before them was indeed moving, and Corwin joined Zack in drawing his PPG. The figure before them was humanoid, but that was all he could tell immediately. It had been found floating in space just off the station by a mechbot. A quick scan had confirmed that the figure was alive – presumably kept so by its blue space suit – but Zack had suggested caution, and Corwin had agreed. There was no reason to assume it was hostile, but then there was no reason to assume it wasn’t either.

“Who are you?” he asked. It made no reply. “Do you understand me?”

The figure staggered forward, making for Corwin who, out of a feeling he couldn’t quite identify, lowered his weapon.

Then the figure saw Zack, and lunged towards him. It seemed to reach out – in anger, or in friendship? – and there was a burst of what Corwin could only call lightning and Zack was thrown backwards.

The figure turned to Corwin…

…and vanished.

“Do you, John Sheridan, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife…?”

Sheridan blinked. This was impossible. He looked up and met Anna’s eyes. There was laughter in them, a joyful, happy laughter he had not seen in her since Elizabeth had died.

“I do,” he whispered. “I do,” he repeated, louder.

Anna had insisted on a traditional wedding, in spite of the lack of appropriate venues. The chapel on the Babylon had seemed the best bet, and Reverend Dexter had been dragged up from Proxima 3 to officiate. Anna had insisted on everything being as traditional as she could make it. Her father had died on Earth, so Dr. Chang gave her away. Sheridan had always planned on asking Jack Maynard to be his best man, but he had not survived the brief counterattack over Mars, and so General Hague was performing the honours. There was no expensive ring, and very few guests, but it was the happiest day of both their lives. Even amidst all this death, some love could prevail.

“I do,” Anna said. She was smiling. There had been no white dress either. The best they could manage was a light blue. The way their lives had gone since then, funereal black would probably have been more appropriate. Sheridan, still in a daze, looked around at the crowd. Half of them were dead now.

“Pay attention,” Anna hissed. That brought a giggle of laughter from everyone and he found himself blushing.

“You may now kiss the bride,” Reverend Dexter said.

He was still trying to focus his attention when she threw her arms around his neck and treated him to the longest, happiest, most perfect kiss he had ever had in his life.

He remembered that day as if it had been yesterday. It had, in fact, been nine years ago, just after the Resistance Government had been established on Proxima 3. Anna had survived the war, but so many others hadn’t, including the one who had introduced the two of them in the first place – John’s sister Elizabeth. Her matchmaking had been the subject of a long-running joke between the three of them. Sheridan had offered to tithe their first-born daughter to Elizabeth in payment. He had had to settle for naming her after his sister instead.