“I’m waiting,” he said slowly.

Lyta could feel his mind now, like soft clay running through her fingers. She could feel him near to breaking point. There was a hot flame burning through all his control, all his precious reserve was close to cracking. Grief and anger and long-restrained hatred were all burning within him.

And with grief and anger and hatred, there was inevitably pain.

She had never been able to master this trick before, but it had worked against Ivanova earlier, and she found herself thinking it would work now. She reached out, feeling the Vorlon guide her, and she touched Welles’ mind.

Pain!

He gave a strangled cry and fell forward, knocking the table aside. His body spasmed on the floor. Lyta slowly helped Delenn to her feet, pulling her away from the convulsing man. Slowly, always looking at Welles, she opened the door.

“I think I remember how to do this,” she muttered.

“Do what?” Delenn asked.

“Change the access code. You need it to get in or out. I am now so dead here, I might as well start digging a grave for myself. The more time we have before they come looking for us, the better.”

“Thank you, Lyta,” Delenn said simply. “You have risked a great deal for me.”

“I think I was risking it as much for myself as well,” Lyta said slowly. “I don’t know why, but… I don’t know why.”

Delenn smiled. “I thank you anyway.”

“Do you still want to find Captain Sheridan?”

“I need to find him.”

“There’s an old saying,” said a familiar voice at the other end of the corridor. “Be careful what you ask for. You might just get it.”

Lyta saw Delenn smile, a warm, happy smile. She certainly did not begrudge her friend happiness but she could not share it, certainly not at the sight of Captain Sheridan, Commander Corwin and Susan Ivanova all together.

Londo Mollari was drunk. In fact, he was very drunk. He was also bad-tempered drunk. Normally he tended to become convivial, happy, cheery and very bad at gambling when he’d had too much to drink – which he hadn’t, at least not recently. But this was a special occasion.

After all, it wasn’t every day that you received reports of the death of your best friend.

He’d received the message earlier, and had proceeded to get incredibly drunk. He supposed he should notify G’Kar, or at least whichever of his agents happened to be nearest – Shaal Lennier, he supposed – but he simply didn’t feel like it. What he felt like, at the moment, was breaking a lot of glasses – check, breaking a lot of items of furniture – check, and then breaking several necks – no check.

It was an accident, they’d said. Of course it was. Yes, that was right. Major Centauri warships went around having ’accidents’ all the time. And the fact that First Minister Urza Jaddo happened to be on board when this ’accident’ occurred was also accidental, right?

Londo was alone. Timov had fled, not used to her husband having a worse temper than she did. Daggair was off at one of her interminable parties, spending more of his money than he could afford. And Mariel, she was… anywhere, but not here. He didn’t care.

He raised a glass of brivare. “Here’s to you, Scatura,” he said. “Here’s to you, Urza.”

Lyta had seen a number of strange and unpleasant sights in her lifetime. The last year had seen a drastic increase in their number and frequency. But she doubted she would ever forget the sight of Susan Ivanova removing her head to reveal Vir Cotto with a Changeling Net.

Refraining from asking the obvious questions – like where he got it, and how he got it smuggled into Proxima – she concentrated instead on Captain Sheridan. He was holding Delenn tenderly. He was not smiling, but the frequent expression of anger on his face was gone. He looked strangely… peaceful. She contemplated a quick scan, but decided against it. Sheridan had always been hard to read, and she did not want to make her actions obvious.

Delenn was smiling. She looked happier than Lyta had ever seen her. It was surprising how much her new human-like features improved when she smiled.

“I’ve, ah, arranged a shuttle to take you up to your spaceship,” Vir was explaining. “This… little device was very handy, and there are a few… friends of friends here, if you know what I mean. You should get there uninterrupted, but you had best leave as soon as possible.”

“And I suppose your… friend… with the Machine has some ideas about what we should do after that?” Sheridan said. “We’ll have effectively exiled ourselves, and taken away Proxima’s only heavy class ship.”

“Hopefully our… friend with the Machine… will offer sanctuary. If you’re ready to take it, Captain. And we both know that there are more powerful defenders here than the Babylon.”

“I won’t be going with you,” Lyta said.

Delenn looked up. “Why not?” she asked.

Because I don’t like Captain Sheridan. Because I think all this is crazy. Because I wish I couldn’t believe any of this. Because I’m afraid of what the voice in my head in telling me.

“Because I have to find Marcus,” she said.

“He’s likely dead by now,” Sheridan replied. “I asked him to watch over Susan for us.”

“I have to find him,” Lyta said firmly. “Goodbye, Delenn.”

Delenn smiled. “Goodbye, Lyta.”

Lyta noticed Sheridan’s embrace tighten softly at Delenn’s smile. She noticed a great many things about Captain Sheridan, things she wished she hadn’t.

“If you need help finding Marcus, track down Zack Allan,” Commander Corwin said. “I think he’s still on the surface here, and he’ll be able to help you.”

“I will,” she said slowly. And she meant it too.

“Walk with Valen,” she whispered, and then paused, surprised. She hardly knew who Valen was.

“And you, my friend,” Delenn said. “And you.”

The Babylon felt very… empty. With most of its crew recalled to Proxima for questioning, and with all Mr. Welles’ security patrols also recalled, there was only a skeleton crew running the ship. That suited Sheridan well enough. It made it easier for him to regain control. As he sat in his chair on the bridge and began taking the ship away from Proxima, he turned to Corwin.

“What are we doing here, David? We’re abandoning our people. We’re betraying them all.”

“It’s Vice President Clark and the others who have done that, sir,” Corwin said slowly, after a moment’s thought. “They betrayed humanity. I think we’re the only ones who haven’t.”

Sheridan thought about this for a moment, and then nodded. “Take us away.”

Lieutenant Franklin was one of the few members of the bridge crew who was still aboard. He looked a little bewildered by the whole affair, but, like Commander Corwin, he trusted his captain.

“We’re leaving Proxima now, sir,” he said. “Jump point formed. We’re in hyperspace.”

“Do you think they’ll send anything out after us?” Corwin asked.

“What have they got to send? They won’t risk a light cruiser or a medium sized warship against the Babylon.”

“And what about one of these Shadow ships? The things that cut through two Minbari cruisers in a matter of seconds?”

“Then… we will deal with that as it happens, David.”

“You cannot,” said a voice. It was Delenn. “None of us can stand up to the Shadows, not yet. But by working together, perhaps we can. I do not know what this… G’Kar has done in preparation for the Shadows, but I do know that by working together, we have a far better chance than we do alone.”

“I only hope you’re right…” Sheridan blinked suddenly and looked around. Something about this felt… familiar. He turned and saw the door to the bridge opening. He started and rose from his chair. No! This was impossible. Anna was on Proxima 3. She had to be.