“None of us has anything to fear.”

For a thousand years it had been a dead world, watched by cautious, waiting eyes, remembered by those with long memories, anticipating the time spoken of when the inhabitants of the dead world would rise again.

That time, as spoken of by Valen in his prophecies, had come. Z’ha’dum was teeming with life once more. Huge ships, as black as night, flew through the galaxy once more. Minions stalked the corridors of power. Forces moved… gathering strength. Agents on countless different sides readied themselves for the first encounter of this new Great War, a war which promised to be every bit as terrible and costly as the previous one.

And where was the Valen this time? Where were the First Ones who left their footprints in the sand? Where were the likes of Varmain and Kin Stolving and A’Iago Mar-Khan?

Upon whose back now rested the destiny of the entire galaxy? The Vorlons were insular, always looking inward. The Minbari and the humans were at war, the humans corrupted by the Darkness, as were the Minbari, although they did not know it. The Narns and the Centauri were at war. The Non-Aligned Worlds were fragmented and solitary.

There were a few shining beacons of light. Epsilon 3 was one such, but could any light hope to withstand the Darkness that had arrived at last?

The first test, the first encounter, would be held at a place called Proxima 3. A place where the forces of human, Minbari, Narn, Centauri, Shadow and Vorlon would crash together.

A Line in the sand.

For a people who had already seen their entire hopes, dreams and home planet torn from them, a Line would be drawn here. Humanity had nowhere else to flee to, nowhere else to go, nothing else to believe in.

A Line had been drawn at Proxima, a Line that would shortly be decorated with blood…

And fire…

And darkness…

General Hague took a deep breath, and moved a silent prayer to the God he no longer believed in. He sat back on his chair, knowing that he should inform the Resistance Government of the information he had just received. Knowing that he should, but unable actually to do it. He couldn’t. He just…

How could he tell them that what they had all been fearing for the last eleven years had just happened?

The Minbari were on their way to Proxima.

They had been expecting this for a while. No, fearing was the right word. In fact, the Minbari were quite a bit overdue. Based on the evidence gained from Satai Delenn, the period of mourning for their dead leader should have ended months ago. They should have elected a new leader months ago. That leader should have been Sinoval, a warrior of the Wind Swords clan. Without Delenn to oppose him, it seemed inevitable.

But the time had passed and the Minbari had not come. Like everyone else on Proxima, General Hague had allowed himself to hope. Maybe Delenn had been wrong. Maybe they had elected another priest, or a worker, someone with no desire to wage war. Maybe the universe had blinked. Maybe God had changed his mind. Maybe humanity had been given another chance. With each day that passed, humanity allowed itself to think it was safe.

Humanity was wrong.

The early warning probes had detected the coming of a Minbari fleet. A big Minbari fleet, far bigger than the Resistance Government’s own worst fears. They would draw a Line here, try to defend it, but the Line had failed at Earth. Why should it hold here?

Hague had not been at the First Line, but he had heard reports from the few who had been and had survived. A wall of paper would have stood about as equal a chance.

And now where were they? Sheridan was gone. The Starkiller was gone. A traitor by all accounts. Hague had never liked him, but he had at least respected the man. How could he betray his people like this?

Oh – the Babylon had been returned, with no explanations from those who brought it back. No clues as to where Sheridan was now. Hague had given command of it to General Takashima, who was doing her best to prepare it for the Minbari’s arrival. By all rights, Hague should have taken it himself, but he couldn’t. He just couldn’t…

The Minbari are coming. The Minbari are coming. The Minbari are coming.

He just could not rid himself of those four words. They kept running around inside his mind.

The Minbari are coming.

He still had not told Vice Pre… President Clark. He still had not told General Takashima. He had not told Mr. Welles. He had only so much as hinted to one person, and she was, hopefully, on her way now.

The door opened, and in she walked.

Ambassador Susan Ivanova. Emissary of the mysterious race called the Shadows who promised assistance to humanity against the Minbari. Except that there was neither sight nor sound nor trace of them. And now the Minbari were coming, and humanity needed them. Humanity needed anything.

The Minbari are coming. The Minbari are coming.

“General. How are you?” She flashed a smile and sat down opposite him. “Well, I trust?”

“I… yes. Fine. I…” Hague stopped and swallowed hard. The Minbari are coming. “The Minbari are coming!” He hadn’t realised he’d spoken that last thought aloud until he heard Ivanova’s reply.

“Finally got things moving, did they? Well, they certainly took their time.”

Hague closed his eyes and tried to breathe. He felt as though he were suffocating. This was absurd! He was a soldier, a trained soldier. He’d fought the Dilgar, he’d taken part in the siege of New Jerusalem, he’d fought with General Franklin on the Janos 7 campaign. He was no stranger to death, but this…

The Minbari are coming.

“Will…” He choked and paused. “Will your allies be here?”

She smiled. “Of course, General. I promised you they would be. They’ll be here.”

Hague nodded and swallowed again. His throat felt very dry. He poured himself a glass of whisky and drank it in one gulp. He’d always kept a bottle of Scotch whisky in his quarters aboard his ship. Afterwards he had brought the bottle here, saving it for a special occasion. Dying seemed special enough.

Ivanova rose and bowed a trifle mockingly. She went towards the door, and as she reached it, she suddenly stopped and turned, smiling.

“There will be a price of course.”

The Minbari are coming!

Elsewhere, others were preparing. Others knew. They had sources, they had agents, they had ears and eyes and minds.

In a place called Sanctuary, a place few had ever heard of, and fewer could find, a man called Bester was having a conversation.

“We knew this was going to happen sooner or later,” he said. “The question is are we ready to take part, or do we just… let events take their course?”

“We cannot stay hidden forever. Did you make the necessary preparations?”

“Oh yes.” Bester smiled, a little smugly. “A few people in the right places. It’s all ready. If we are.”

“Do you think we are?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never met these… allies of humanity, but their ambassador on Proxima was certainly keen enough to avoid me. That could mean something. It could mean we’re right.”

“Perhaps. What about Captain Sheridan?”

“What about him?”

“What does he know?”

“What you’ve told him, what he’s managed to piece together. I certainly haven’t told him anything. He’s an intelligent man, and a dangerous one. I think he’s taking to the Parmenion quite well.”

“And Satai Delenn? What about her?”

“Now that… is a fascinating subject. I’ve had her checked over by my doctors here. She is… a mix, a foot in each world, so to speak. Unfortunately, she is also genetically very unstable. She wasn’t willing to talk about her change, but I wouldn’t hold out much hope for a long life. Unless she can somehow complete what was interrupted… That’s your area, I believe.”