“We all know this, Morgan,” muttered President Crane wearily. Her health was not good, and she had come to this meeting purely because of the importance of the subject matter. Over four hours of debate had done nothing for her strength and she looked on the verge of collapse.

“We all know this, and we have been making preparations. Lieutenant Ivanova assures us that her friends are monitoring the situation and they will be here. Our early warning probes have picked up nothing yet. We will be ready for them, Morgan…”

“But,” General Takashima spoke up. “Our time is still limited. We have still not given a solid answer to the Centarum about their overtures of peace. The Centauri could be valuable allies. With the arrival of Lord Refa in a few days, it is important that we take this chance. Surely the Minbari will hesitate if we have the Centauri on our side as well.”

“I doubt they will,” Clark said. “But it would still be important to have the Centauri as allies. Of what use have the Narns been so far? Less than nothing. So if the Centauri want to offer their help against the Minbari, then we would be fools not to take it.”

“I am still doubtful about this Lord Refa,” Crane whispered. “I have never heard his name before. Why are the Centauri not sending Minister Mollari or one of his aides? He was the one after all who first proposed the treaty.”

“Minister Mollari is bound to be a busy man,” Clark replied. “Lord Refa is a prominent Centauri noble, and the diplomatic pouch did bear the seal of the Centauri Emperor himself. And any doubts you will be able to put to him directly.

“I feel however that there is a greater problem at hand. A potential security risk. When Satai Delenn was first brought here, I advocated keeping her alive. As a prisoner and as a potential hostage she could be a valuable asset, and indeed, Mr. Welles obtained a great deal of information from her. Of late however, she has spent all her time aboard the Babylon. According to Captain Sheridan’s reports on the Epsilon Three fiasco, her presence there was not sufficient to prevent a Minbari ship firing upon the Babylon, and therefore her value as a hostage is somewhat doubtful. Captain Sheridan has also repeatedly denied Mr. Welles or anyone else the chance to continue questioning her.

“Whether she holds some… unhealthy influence upon Captain Sheridan or not is not my place to say. I believe however that her presence here has ceased to be an asset and has become a potential danger. The sooner we are rid of her the better.

“And of course, a public execution would serve as a powerful morale boost for the public, would it not?”

If Captain John Sheridan had been told a year ago of where he would be today, he would have laughed, and refused to believe. Then, he had been a loyal defender of humanity, last hope against the Minbari, fearless captain of the EAS Babylon. Everything had seemed so simple. Of course, his daughter Elizabeth was dead, and his wife Anna was drinking herself into a stupor most nights, but he at least knew who he was and why he was doing what he was doing.

But then he’d set in at Vega 7 for repairs to the Babylon, he’d been betrayed by Administrator Na’Far and captured by Minbari, he’d been met in a Minbari cell by Susan Ivanova, he’d escaped from Minbar, capturing Satai Delenn in the process, and everything had fallen completely apart.

Everything from his mission to Narn, to his freeing of Satai Delenn from Mr. Welles’ interrogation, to the whole Epsilon 3 / G’Kar scenario and the very strange Babylon 4 encounter afterwards… everything seemed strangely unreal to him. As if this were all a dream. He would wake up and find he was back on Earth – just him and Anna and Elizabeth, and they’d be in his father’s garden with the smell of orange blossom all around them, and they’d be having the life they should have had, the life they would have had if the Minbari had stopped before they came to Earth.

But then he woke up, and he realised that Elizabeth was still dead, Anna was still a stranger to him, Earth was gone and all his family and memories with it, and he was here, on board the Babylon, looking at a giant cocoon.

Delenn had called it a chrysalis, of course, but that made him none the wiser. He found himself absurdly thinking of her emerging as a butterfly, with wings and everything. He wasn’t really certain what she was going to emerge as, save that she was hoping it would bring their two races closer together. That was a fool’s dream as far as he was concerned, but she believed, and the fiery belief in her eyes almost made him believe as well.

Almost.

Sheridan did not believe in prophecy, or in destiny, or in happy endings. When he thought about peace between human and Minbari, all he could see was the Black Star, or the Minbari fleets massing over Mars, or Satai Sinoval in the Hall of the Grey Council, and he knew that this would only end in blood. Perhaps when Minbar had gone the same way as Earth, maybe then things would be at peace, but he doubted it.

So why was he here, watching a cocoon that contained the woman who had led the war against his people? Why was he lighting candles set in positions he did not understand? Why was he here when he should be running his ship? Why was he following the words of a prophecy he did not believe in?

Why? Because he believed in her. He had been privileged in his life to know certain people around whom everything turned, people who could command respect and authority with their mere presence. He supposed that he himself was one of those people, although he certainly did not feel like one. He remembered General Richard ‘Firestorm’ Franklin, with such force of presence and an almost tangible aura. He remembered his first CO – Captain Jack Maynard – with his almost inexhaustible fount of knowledge and sayings and stories. He remembered his father, a diplomat of many years, whose softly spoken voice had addressed emperors, leaders and prophets, and he remembered his mother, whose firmly spoken words had maintained order over two very mischievous children.

All of them were now dead, but Delenn wasn’t. She was no military leader, and he did not suppose she was a diplomat. From what he understood of the Minbari caste structure, he knew her to be a priestess. Yet she held the same sense of presence that had characterised all the great military leaders and diplomats he had ever known. And she had more. She believed. She really, honestly believed in the rightness and the justice of her cause.

Sheridan believed in nothing these days, and so he latched on to her belief like a drowning man gasping for air. And so he waited for her. He suspected that beneath the air of certainty there was a tinge of doubt. Delenn had not been sure of what this would do to her, for all that she acted as if she was. And so, as part payment for all the words of comfort she had given him, he was waiting for her.

She had said it would take several days, perhaps even a fortnight. She had been in there for five days so far. He had barely eaten or drunk, but he had gone days without food or water in the past, and hunger had ceased to bother him. Her movements from within the chrysalis had stopped three days ago, and he could not see her through its thin strands any longer.

He was waiting. Commander Corwin understood even less about this than Sheridan did, but he respected his CO, and had ensured that nothing reached him, not even the news of Anna’s attempted visit – an event which, if Sheridan had known about it, might have prevented all the tragedy that later came. But at the time he was isolated and still, and strangely at peace.

It wasn’t to last. Nothing ever did. He understood this, but even so, he was still a little irritated when his link activated and Corwin’s voice came through it.