‘Some must be sacrificed if all are to be saved.’

To save Minbar, Sinoval had sacrificed Delenn.

He stood alone in the Hall of the Grey Council, staring at the empty columns of light all around him. His fellow Satai had gone to spread the word of his ascension and to complete the preparations for his final attack. The last bastion of Earther power and the secret base of the Enemy – Proxima 3 – would fall.

He shifted the image around him to that of the Minbari fleet that was rising. Capital ships, flyers, and the new breed of ships, built with Vorlon technology. They were called the White Stars by the majority of those who flew in them. It was supposed to be reminiscent of the Dralaphi – the Black Star. Sinoval thought it a bad omen, but he had to admit that the ships were impressive. For their size, they were more powerful, faster and better equipped than any other ship around. The Rangers, newly reformed under his leadership, would pilot them against the Enemy.

We are ready, he thought. Let the Enemy and the Earthers and the Starkiller come. We are ready for them. In Valen’s Name, I will be ready.

First, however, there was one problem, one old debt to be repaid. Sinoval killed the image around him and walked out of the Hall. It was tradition that the Holy One always stayed within the Hall of the Council. Like many other traditions, it was one that he intended to break.

She was waiting for him, as he knew she would be. Jha’dur – Warmaster of the Dilgar, the being called Deathwalker.

He remembered the day she had come to his clan. The clan leaders had taken her aside for private consultations, and they had announced that she would stay with the clan, and that this would be kept secret. As the clan leaders had died – to age, to grief, to Starkiller – Sinoval inherited the secret, and her knowledge. He was now the only one to know of her presence here.

She was a weight around his neck, perpetually dragging him down. Now that he had his destiny, it would soon be time to get rid of her.

“So,” she said. “Congratulations, Holy One. I always knew you would go far, Sinoval.”

“By Valen’s will and by my strength, yes,” he said.

“And a little help,” she reminded. “Don’t forget who took Satai Delenn out of the picture for you.”

“I have not,” he said. “And that is why I am here. I tolerated your presence before, Jha’dur. You were valuable to me, and I thought… foolishly… that you would help me take us back to our rightful place in the galaxy.

“I was wrong. You are evil, Jha’dur, as evil a thing as ever drew breath. The weapons you supplied us with are terrible artefacts of mass destruction. The price you took from us was sapping our souls, a little bit at a time. It is over, Jha’dur.

“You will leave Minbar today. You will take your… instruments of terror and all trace that you were ever here, and you will go. And you will never return. Isil’zha veni. In Valen’s Name, I promise you that you will not be harmed if you do so, but stay here after today, and you will be killed.

“Do you understand me?”

“Perfectly,” she said.

“Do not think of revenge, Jha’dur. I am Holy One now, leader of the entire Minbari Federation. I am beyond anything that you can do to me. Be satisfied that you are keeping your life.”

“Behold the gratitude of princes,” she spat. “I will be gone, Sinoval. Do not worry about that.”

“That is all I ask,” he said, as he left.

Sinoval, Holy One, was now with no burdens, no ties, nothing to stop him completing his destiny.

And his destiny would be reached in fire over the skies of Proxima 3.

Commander David Corwin possessed many worthwhile skills, all of which rendered him inestimably valuable to Captain Sheridan. The skill which was probably the most valuable was the ability to survive and to adapt. He adapted to the destruction of Earth and to the loss of his family on Mars. He adapted to life on the Babylon – very quickly, even taking over the position of helm when the person manning it was killed.

He had adapted to constant, and largely futile warfare. He had adapted to the loss of the woman he loved when Susan Ivanova had gone missing on the Babylon 2 mission, and he had adapted when the woman he loved returned… changed, not wanting to know him. He adapted when he learned that Susan was part of an ancient evil and he had even adapted when fighting that evil compelled him to abandon his own people.

Where nothing he had ever known remained constant, David Corwin had learned to adapt in order to survive, but even he had to admit that this was unusual.

It had only been a few days ago that he and Captain Sheridan had been arrested by the Resistance Government, ostensibly on charges of either negligence or treason, which one depending on whom you talked to. Corwin still found it hard to believe that Susan had been behind those charges, or at least guilty of the murders and the attempted murder that had caused them to come about. With help from a very unlikely source, Corwin and Sheridan had escaped Proxima 3 on board the Babylon, only to be pursued by a vessel which in all probability belonged to the Shadows – humanity’s newest allies and the Minbari’s oldest enemies. The Shadow ship had mysteriously fled when confronted by another Earthforce heavy destroyer class ship – of which there weren’t supposed to be any – and the Babylon had been led here. Wherever here was. Colonel – or perhaps Captain – Ben Zayn, of the Ozymandias, had arranged for the Babylon to come here without actually saying where ’here’ was.

And it wasn’t as if Corwin could ask Captain Sheridan for help. A few days before, the Captain had shot and killed his wife Anna, and he was now in seclusion. Corwin supposed the Captain was getting very very drunk, but as long as he knew for certain that Sheridan hadn’t killed himself, then he simply hoped that he would work his way through this soon.

Crisis left little time for grief.

So, with Captain Sheridan hiding away from the world, half of the Babylon’s crew left behind on Proxima – including Security Chief Zack Allan – and Satai Delenn locked up in the Babylon’s brig on Sheridan’s orders, it was Corwin who was left with the task of handling the Babylon’s integration into this new society they found themselves among.

It was a moon, hidden somewhere. The moon had been hollowed out and a massive city had been built there. Corwin had some inkling of who had been behind their rescue – Captain Ben Zayn had been accompanied by a P10 level telepath, and they didn’t just grow on trees. This was Psi Corps, and if this was Psi Corps, then that meant Alfred Bester.

Bester had visited Proxima 3 a few months ago, for the purpose of finding out about humanity’s allies and mind-scanning Satai Delenn. Corwin had been peripherally involved in a plan to stop this. Captain Sheridan had not provided details, but evidently it had worked. Corwin wondered if Bester was the type to hold a grudge. Judging by their rescue it didn’t seem like it, although there were still far too many questions to be answered.

How had Bester known where they would be?

Why had the Shadow ship veered away?

What did Bester want with them?

Where the hell were they?

The fourth question at least could be answered by Michael Garibaldi, Bester’s Liaison and Strategics Officer, or something. He clearly wasn’t a telepath – no gloves and no Psi Corps badge – and he seemed friendly enough, but there was a select list of people Corwin trusted, and that list consisted of Captain Sheridan and no one else.

“So where exactly are we?” he had asked as soon as Mr. Garibaldi had begun a brief tour of the place.

“A secret Psi Corps base not far from Narn space,” came the reply. “The Boss did a deal with some of the Narns. You knows that the Narns don’t have telepaths? Well, at a healthy price, the Boss arranges for them to get some telepaths’ DNA, and so we get to stay here. We get food shipped in, even a few ships. The Narns want telepaths pretty badly, you see. I don’t think any of their experiments are working yet, but, well…”