“They will.” Because I’ll have witnesses. David will back me up even though I told him to stay out of this. He’ll involve himself.

“Well then, Captain. It seems your… persuasiveness has won me over. I’ll be leaving then, shall I? With my head, if you wouldn’t mind. I’m very attached to it, you see. We’re inseparable, in fact.”

Sheridan stepped backwards, one step. “We’ll have to put off some time for appearance’s sake, but you can spend it here. The only part of my ship you’ll be going anywhere near is from here to the docking bays, and the only person you’ll be seeing is me.”

“I was not aware of any insanity in your record, Captain.”

“I’m not insane,” he replied. “I don’t like you and I don’t trust you.”

“I don’t trust myself either, Captain. At least that puts me in the majority. So, this is a fascinating office, at least.”

“Shut up.”

Sheridan activated his link. “Mr. Corwin. Mr. Bester and I will be attending to matters in my office. Please ensure we are not disturbed.”

“Yes, sir,” came Corwin’s voice over the link. All scripted of course. Sheridan hoped those tricks Delenn had shown him were working, but what did it matter if they didn’t? She would be safe, and he was still indispensable.

He had a feeling it was going to be a long few hours.

“It worked then?”

“It worked,” Sheridan confirmed. “Although I’ll be damned if I know how. Those mind clearing tricks you taught me must have worked.”

Delenn frowned. “If he is as powerful as you say…” She placed another part on to the machine. “I would be careful, John. I think you have made an enemy today.”

“So what’s one more? He’s gone now anyway, and I know he didn’t give the Resistance Government a briefing on what just happened. I… I just can’t help feeling he had something deeper in mind. Well, whatever he wanted, he either got it or he didn’t, and either way it can’t be helped. And he’ll either tell the Resistance Government or he won’t. Either way, they won’t be able to do anything.

“How is that thing coming along?”

“Soon,” she said. She looked up and met his eyes. He saw her concern.

“Soon.”

A few hours out of Proxima 3, heading for the Proxima system jump gate, at a point where he was sure his transmissions wouldn’t be intercepted, Bester sent a coded signal. A few minutes later, a familiar voice appeared over the comm channel.

“Hey, boss. How’d it go?”

“Mr. Garibaldi? I was expecting Ben Zayn.”

“He’s off somewhere. Trouble with the Streibs. You know how it is, boss. So, how’d it go?”

“Fine. I got what I came for.”

“Captain John Sheridan?”

“Yes. A complete and detailed scan, and all without his knowledge. At least I think so. He’d formed some unusual blocks, but I got past them eventually. It just took a little time.”

“And?”

“And, Mr. Garibaldi, our information was correct. One hundred percent so.”

“Nothing’s one hundred percent anything, boss.”

“Always the sceptic, eh, Mr. Garibaldi. Some days I’m very glad I’m not in your wife’s place.”

“I’m very glad you’re not in my wife’s place too.”

Bester chuckled. “How is she anyway?”

“The same. Throwing up every morning and hating every minute of it.”

“Remember, you promised to name the child after me if he’s a boy.”

“Alfred Garibaldi? What kind of a name is that? Alfredo, perhaps.”

“We shall see, Mr. Garibaldi. We shall see.”

“What about the Minbari? Satai Delenn?”

“No. I didn’t get close enough to her, but that doesn’t matter. She was only an added bonus anyway. Ah, here’s the jump gate. I will be back in about twelve hours.”

“I’ll see you then, boss. C and C out.”

Bester closed his eyes. Everything was going as it should. His information had been correct after all. There had been some disagreement as to whether it should be trusted, but now everything was going fine and could continue.

He smiled.

Hail, Holy One. Hail, Sinoval. Hail, Holy One.

Sinoval. Satai of the Grey Council. Entil’zha of the Rangers. Warleader of the Wind Swords clan. Shai Alyt of the jihad against the Earthers. A long list of titles. More than enough for most people. Branmer himself had borne only two of the four Sinoval currently held. Many lived and served their whole lives without gaining even a fraction of the power or respect Sinoval wielded, and they were happy with their status.

Sinoval was not.

He dreamed.

He dreamed of walking in the footsteps of Valen, and Varmain, and Durhan, and Branmer. He dreamed of reaching out his hand and touching the stars. He dreamed of leading his people to the gates of Z’ha’dum and tearing them down. He dreamed of bringing light to the darkness.

He dreamed, and now his dream was near to reality. There was only one obstacle, the same obstacle that had impeded him countless times before.

Her name was Delenn.

The period of mourning for Dukhat’s death was over, and the Grey Council was set on choosing his successor. For over ten cycles, since even before Dukhat’s death, it had seemed set that Delenn would stand where Dukhat had stood. She had been his chosen at a time when Sinoval had not even stood amongst the Nine.

But things had changed. Delenn had been gone almost a whole cycle, vanished when Starkiller Sheridan had made his escape. Whether she had been captured or had gone willingly was not known. Although Sinoval found it hard to believe she had gone with the Starkiller of her own will, it suited him to remind others of that possibility. Some were even starting to believe what he did not. These false beliefs were growing in strength ever since the encounter almost half a cycle ago, at the planet called Epsilon 3, where the Trigati had clashed with Sheridan’s ship, the Babylon. The second in command of the Trigati, Alyt Deeron, had reported receiving word from the Babylon that Delenn was aboard, even receiving communications from Delenn to back away and leave the planet. Sinoval had publicly denied all knowledge of this, but privately suspicions were starting to grow, especially when the ease of Starkiller’s escape was brought up. Sinoval knew the truth, of course, or at least as much of the truth as he could. He hated such rumours, but he let them run. It suited his greater purpose.

Some must be sacrificed if all are to be saved. An old Minbari saying, one that he had heard in his first foray into the Dreaming, as he was initiated into the Grey Council. He repeated it silently to himself, changing it slightly.

Delenn must be sacrificed if the Minbari are to be saved.

Only a few weeks ago a warrior, Kalain, had been appointed as temporary replacement for Delenn, the full nine being needed to vote on a leader. This had been a hard-fought victory on Sinoval’s part, but well won. And now he was mere inches from his greatest triumph.

So near and yet so far.

The Grey Council wanted proof, one way or the other. Lennann and Rathenn had been screaming for action ever since Delenn had disappeared, but other, wiser heads were able to talk them down about the danger and the risk involved to rescue one who was surely either dead or a traitress. And besides, without Delenn, her sycophant followers were of no importance. Hedronn had spoken up at last, however, and he had the weight of the worker caste behind him.

“We need proof, Sinoval,” he had said. “Delenn was the chosen of Dukhat, and we must respect Dukhat’s wishes. A rescue attempt may have been inadvisable before, but we know your wishes and your actions should you be voted to lead us. If Delenn is alive, and a prisoner, then we cannot let you jeopardise her life in an attack, and we cannot elect you to fill the place that should be hers. Get us proof, Sinoval, and we shall see.”