“I learned… the hard way, that power brings with it responsibility. I was given power and I misused it when I began the war with your people. I wish I could take back what I said, and what I did, but I cannot, and so I work towards the future.

“You have a similar responsibility, Jo… Captain.” Calling him by name did not feel right any more. “You cannot abandon them.”

“And what about my responsibility to Anna? I abandoned that easily enough. To love, cherish and honour… for better or worse, for richer or poorer… I abandoned all of them easily enough. What does a little more matter?”

“And you were wrong with Anna, weren’t you?”

“Don’t speak her name again,” he whispered. He had not shouted, not yelled, not even moved, but those five words chilled her to the very bone.

“You…” She hesitated. “You were wrong, though. If we do not learn from our mistakes, then surely we will make them again. Captain, please… your crew needs you… Commander Corwin needs you…”

“You’re a bad liar, Delenn. Only one person has ever needed me, and she’s long dead. My daughter. Elizabeth. The only item of beauty I ever created in my whole life, and she’s gone.”

“Why all this self-pity? You have a destiny, and you have friends. You have… a purpose, a reason for living… If you do not see that, it is because you have taught yourself not to believe it.” Delenn paused, and then smiled slowly.

“Who else could my people call Starkiller?”

Sheridan said nothing. He did not move. He simply stared at his drink.

“Cap… John.” Delenn slowly rose and moved forward. “Your crew needs you. They are afraid, they are disorientated, they are lost. Commander Corwin needs you. I need you.”

He looked up. “You?”

“Yes. I… I have followed prophecy all my life, and it has led me here, to you. I told you once that we believe that groups of souls travel together, reliving the good relationships, and correcting the bad ones. We are linked, John. We are all a part of this universe.”

“How do your people cope with grief?” he said. He didn’t seem to have heard what she had told him, but she knew he had. “How would you cope in a situation like this?”

She knelt down beside him. “We fast, we pray, we meditate, we remember. Often for a period of many weeks. Sometimes, we go insane, as we did when this war began. When I lost Neroon, I immersed myself in the study of prophecy. When I lost Draal, I spent days in meditation, remembering everything about him that I loved. There are no rules to grief, John.”

“I can’t pray, because I don’t have anyone to pray to. I can’t remember, because that would mean simply reliving every mistake I made. I can’t go insane. I did that when Elizabeth died, and when Earth fell. There’s no good down that road.

“And there’s one path left.”

“It may not be the right road.”

“I’ve made plenty of wrong decisions in my life, Delenn. What’s one more?” Hesitantly, slowly, he reached out, and he touched her cheek. She took his hand and looked into his eyes. They were… scarred, by grief, by loss, by anger, by shame… but by determination as well.

The Starkiller was never far from the surface.

She kissed his hand slowly, unsure of what she was feeling. Her body felt so… strange recently, but surely there could be nothing wrong with this happiness? She moved closer to his bed.

He smiled sadly, and rose to his feet. He helped her up, and if she swayed and lost her balance for a moment, and he had to catch her, he made no sign. He helped her balance and then let go of her hand.

“Is David outside?” he asked.

She nodded, unable to speak.

“I suppose he has something important to tell me. I think it’s time to find out what just what we’re doing here, and just what Mr. Bester wants with us.”

Delenn started, recognising the name. Bester had come to Proxima a few months ago, intending to scan her. She had been preparing for her chrysalis at the time, and could not let anyone discover her intentions. And so she had taught Sheridan a number of Minbari meditation techniques which blocked light telepathic scans, enabling him to threaten Bester into leaving her alone. As a short-term measure, it had worked, but she had not envisaged being at Bester’s mercy again, and certainly not in this condition.

“John,” she said softly. “Be careful.”

“I don’t trust Bester one inch, Delenn, but you’ve told me of the responsibilities I have. I know what I’m doing.”

She smiled, and started to reach out to him again. She hesitated, and then stopped. As she had expected, Corwin was waiting outside the door. He gave her a cautious smile, and then nodded at the Captain. Delenn followed John from the room, hoping neither of her companions would notice her discomfort. Her head was aching and all her muscles seemed sore.

Her discomfort increased when Commander Corwin revealed he had been linked a message saying that Bester wanted to see her as well

“She is the other half of my soul. Tell her… no, she already knows. If there is any justice, Ta’Lon, then I will meet her again, in a place where no shadows fall.”

Narns did not cry. No one who had survived the Centauri occupation could ever cry again, and Ta’Lon had ceased to show any semblance of grief after his mother had starved to death. He remembered the Centauri, but he could not hate them. He had a greater purpose in mind.

Proxima 3 was still on a war alert. The Minbari could attack at any moment, and their early warning systems gave the humans a bare twelve hours notice. Ta’Lon would have a little more of a warning than that, but G’Kar’s agents on Minbar had reported that he had a few days at most, perhaps a week.

It would of course take him several days to get to Proxima 3. This would be close. Assuming he could escape the Shadow agents there, he would have to leave the place before the Minbari arrived. They would not discriminate, and the fact that he fought the same Enemy that they did would not matter to them.

Nor would the fact that he was bringing the last words of a Minbari warrior to his beloved.

Ta’Lon had heard nothing from G’Kar since before he and Neroon had gone out towards the Rim. He had also heard little from G’Kar’s agent on Proxima in a few days, but that was not surprising. With the whole planet on a war footing, no outside transmissions could be made. Ta’Lon could also not make any communications to G’Kar’s agents elsewhere, as his ship had been damaged in the Shadow attack a few days ago.

Ta’Lon was isolated and alone, but he had a purpose. Somewhere on Proxima was held Satai Delenn, and he had to rescue her before her people arrived.

He had sworn that to Neroon, before the Minbari had died…

“We have him here, Excellency.”

Londo looked at the guard escorting him into the cells of the palace, and wondered whose side he was on. He had bribed the guard enough, but still, was someone else paying him more? Londo’s funds were not bottomless.

He had received the message this morning, as he was preparing for Lady Morella’s arrival. The message had been from one of his sources in the Royal Court. It was short and to the point.

‘Lady Morella has been murdered. A prisoner is being held.’

Londo did not know Emperor Turhan’s third widow very well, but he did know that she was a prophetess, a very well-kept secret among the Royal Court. She had been in seclusion since Turhan’s death during the previous war with the Narn, emerging only very rarely. The fact that she wanted to see him had come as a great surprise.

The thought had occurred to him that the whole meeting was a joke arranged by Timov to annoy him, but he had checked with Lady Morella’s valet, and learned that Timov had been telling the truth. The reason why Lady Morella wanted to see him and not been revealed, and now it probably never would be.