But she was here. “John!” she said. “What’s been happening?”

Sheridan drew his PPG and pointed it, across the length of the bridge, at her.

“John? What…?” Then she saw Delenn. “I see. What they were saying was true, then. I didn’t want to believe them, but… they were right. You did betray us all, John.”

“You betrayed me, Anna. Why? I wondered why at the time. It was Susan, wasn’t it? I should have realised. What did she tell you? What did she offer you?”

“John, you aren’t making any sense. But… I suppose that’s not surprising. I never thought. I just… never thought.”

John glanced at Delenn, glanced away just long enough for Anna to draw her own PPG. He pointed his weapon back at her, silently cursing himself. He was the one who’d insisted she carry a weapon, never imagining she’d point it at him.

“This is a mistake,” Delenn whispered. “This is a misunderstanding. John, please, listen!”

But he wasn’t listening. Anna was. “Why are you doing this?” she pleaded. “Why? Doesn’t… doesn’t Elizabeth’s death mean anything to you? That… that freak killed her. She killed Elizabeth, and your parents, and mine. She took everything from both of us. And now she’s taken you as well. John, please!”

“What did Susan tell you? What did she…? Anna, no!”

Anna turned to point her PPG at Delenn. John’s arm jerked upwards…

Corwin would never forget the expression on his Captain’s face as he fired. Despair. The ultimate, most tragic, most heart-wrenching despair he could ever imagine. But it did no good. Once the weapon was fired, it could never be taken back.

Anna slumped and fell, her own weapon falling from her lifeless fingers. Sheridan just stood there, staring for a moment, then he dropped his own weapon.

“Anna,” he whispered. Slowly, he walked across the bridge to her side and knelt down beside her. Corwin knew that she was dead. It was inconceivable that she could be otherwise, but still… he could hope that she was alive. Not for her sake, but for her husband’s.

Sheridan, on the other hand, seemed to know. As if he had been expecting this all along, but had never adjusted himself to its inevitability. He simply knelt beside her, touching her hair, whispering her name, over and over again.

Corwin’s attention was so taken up by Sheridan that he didn’t notice Delenn move. If he had, he might have stopped her, but he did not, and the first Sheridan knew of it was when she gently touched his shoulder, standing by his side.

He spun around, lashing out. He pulled his punch at the last minute, but it was still enough to floor her. She fell sprawling, and Corwin caught the look in her eyes as she fell.

Terror and tragedy.

“Get her out of here!” Sheridan snapped to anyone who was listening. “Throw her in the brig! Throw her out of an airlock! Just get her out of my sight!”

Delenn tried to rise, but he moved forward, fire and death blazing in his expression. Corwin ran forward, again for his sake, not for hers, and helped Delenn to her feet. She was leaning on him heavily, although probably more from shock than from pain. Corwin shared a long, sympathetic, empathetic look with his captain and led Delenn from the bridge, and down to the brig.

As a result, he missed what happened next.

“Captain,” breathed Lieutenant Franklin. “This… this is…”

“What?” Sheridan asked dully.

“Come and see.”

Sheridan made his way down to Franklin’s console, moving slowly, not caring, not thinking. He looked at the readouts.

His eyes widened. He had never seen a Shadow ship before, but he knew that that was what he was looking at.

Ivanova had sent the Shadows after them, after all.

It had taken Lyta several minutes to regain her breath after leaving Sheridan, Corwin, Vir and Delenn outside the Detention Centre. Vir had put his Changeling Net back on again, and was planning on guiding the others to the shuttle he had arranged. She was still a trifle unclear about his motives, but her thoughts were far too enmired to worry about them for the moment.

The first thing she did was return to her room and collapse on the bed, drawing in great, gasping breaths. She knew that she had to find Marcus. That was her main concern here. For the first time since leaving the cell, the thought of what she had done to Mr. Welles nagged at her. What if she had killed him? What would he do when he got out?

None of that mattered. She had to find Marcus, and Corwin had told her how to do it.

Once she had recovered her breath, she left her room and headed in search of this Zack Allan. Tracking him down was not difficult – a whole ship-full of Security personnel tended to make an impact, and all it took was a few questions. She did not even have to use her powers to gain the information she needed, although she was nervous the whole time, wondering if each person she talked to knew about what she had done.

Was this how normals felt in the presence of telepaths? This whole, enveloping terror, always afraid of what they had done that they might be called to account for?

When she found Zack, she mentioned Sheridan’s name, and he became attentive. He listened to what she had to say – which took a while, as her breathing was still laboured, and she was still afraid. Kosh’s voice was trying to tell her something, but she hardly heard it.

And after she had finished, Zack had left to do a bit of checking. A few minutes later, he returned.

“Found him,” he said. “He was slightly injured in a brief scuffle last night. Medlab are looking after him.”

Lyta started, knowing that for a lie. She could feel Marcus when he was in pain. Zack was lying. She rose to her feet, but then the door to his room opened again.

In stepped Vice President Clark and Mr. Welles.

“Mr. Allan here tells us you have an interesting story to tell, Miss Alexander,” Clark said. “I would very much like to hear it.”

“Is it taking any sort of hostile action?” Sheridan asked.

“I don’t… think so. I don’t know what it’s doing.”

“Hah! Join the club, Lieutenant. Where’s the nearest safe place we can get out of hyperspace?”

“I can get us out in Sector Thirty-seven in a few minutes.”

“Do it.”

Franklin was marvelling at the change in Sheridan. Mere moments after seeing his wife die and being nearly ready to attack Delenn, he had become calm, collected and poised. He only seemed to become alive in battle, these days.

If he spared a lingering look at the body of his wife, Franklin chose not to comment on it.

Franklin suddenly looked up. His readings were… no, this was impossible. “Captain, it’s… gone…”

“Gone?”

“It just veered away. Like it was scared of… We’ve got an incoming transmission.”

Sheridan sat bolt upright. “The sort of ship that can tear apart two Minbari cruisers in a matter of minutes isn’t going to be afraid of us. Put the message on, but audio only.”

Sheridan turned to the communications panel by the side of his chair. He heard a stern, firm voice come over the channels.

“You would be Captain Sheridan?”

“Yes. And you are?”

“Colonel Ari Ben Zayn, formerly of Earthforce Special Intelligence. With me is my associate, Mr. Harriman Gray. We have a… mutual acquaintance, Captain. He asked me to come and find you.”

Sheridan knew the name. Ben Zayn was a decorated soldier, renowned in many battles and wars. He was said to be a talented, ambitious and very dangerous man. He was also supposed to be dead.

“And who is this… mutual acquaintance?”

“Later, Captain. When the time is right. We offer you a place of sanctuary. In return for certain… services, Captain.”

“What kind of services?”

“When the time is right, Captain. When the time is right. Well, do you accept?”