Ah, who am I kidding? Londo thought. I would have done this anyway.

But then, blaming G’Kar was much more fun than blaming himself.

After he had left Centauri Prime – supposedly dead – he had been helped aboard the warship Valerius, captained by his nephew Carn. Londo was not particularly happy at his nephew having chosen a life in the military, but he had been able to use his influence to get Carn posted to a ceremonial, showy type of ship, and therefore one not very likely to see much action.

Unfortunately, they’d neglected to inform the Narns of this.

Technically the Narns and the Centauri were at war. Well, technically and actually, but Londo had still found it irritating to be attacked by a Narn warship so far from the war zone. He had been on his way to Frallus 12, to rendezvous with a number of his sources and agents there, when they’d run into a Narn cruiser.

This is so absurd! he thought. I wonder if that Captain has any idea of who I am. If G’Kar knew about this, he would… If G’Kar knew about this… if G’Kar…

All right, so maybe G’Kar was a little hard to reach these days. His chief lackey in the Kha’Ri wasn’t.

He had managed to bully his way to a communications centre and had patched a very hurried message through to the Narn homeworld, using a special frequency and code G’Kar had made available to all in his little Circle of Light. His hopes for a reply had been slim, but he had definitely not been expecting the Narn captain himself to appear on the screen.

“Minister Mollari,” had said the Captain. “I am Warleader Na’Kal, of the J’Tok. It has come to my attention that we walk in similar circles.”

That was news to Londo. Did G’Kar have agents everywhere? “I suppose that we do,” he said carefully. “In gesture of our… similarities, how would you feel about stopping your attack?”

“Already done. I am loyal to G’Kar, and my crew are loyal to me. We have received word that the Enemy is active at last, and are engaging the Minbari in battle over Proxima. G’Kar has ordered us to try and assist the Minbari. He asks that you do the same.”

“Oh, great!” Londo muttered. His warrior days were long gone – had gone at Frallus 12, in fact, but still… A chance to rekindle old glories? Perhaps even a chance to put him back in his rightful position in the Royal Court? “I will see what I can do.”

“Do you have telepaths aboard?”

“I believe there may be one or two. Do you?”

“Yes, although he is not very strong.”

“Well, then. It looks as though G’Kar has done the impossible, and we’ll actually be fighting together, no?”

“Some things are more important than revenge, Minister. You have the co-ordinates for Proxima, I trust?”

“Of course.”

“Then I will see you there.” Na’Kal suddenly paused. “Are you a gambling man, Minister?”

Londo contemplated lying, but knew that would be pointless. “Yes.”

“Then what would you gamble that we destroy more of their ships than you do?”

Londo smiled. A Narn with something intelligent to say. That was rare. A Narn with a sense of humour…

That was far rarer.

Marcus was… just waiting, trying to look at anything other than the woman before him. She was waiting as well. Waiting for what, he didn’t know. She’d returned from her meeting with General Hague in a dark mood. She’d paced up and down angrily, drunk a little more of that Narn liquor, and simply waited, arguing with herself, although she said nothing. Marcus was no stranger to self-conflict, and he recognised the signs in her. He wasn’t sure what she was debating, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. All he wanted to know was where Lyta was.

Marcus Cole had done many things in his life that he was ashamed of. His drunken submission after Earth had fallen and his home colony – Vega 7 – had been taken over by the Narns. His survival when almost everyone else had been killed. His insistence on serving as Sheridan’s bodyguard – just a means to escape his own problems. The way he had betrayed Lyta – and Sheridan – by succumbing to Ivanova’s advances.

Of nothing he had done was he more ashamed than this. He had been entrusted with a task – an important task – and he had failed. Ivanova had tricked him so easily, she had locked him up and been free to go about her own business. Marcus wasn’t sure exactly what she had done, but he could see the distance in her eyes when she returned, and he knew that it was something dreadful.

He still didn’t know what had happened to Captain Sheridan, or Satai Delenn, or Commander Corwin… or Lyta. He had been here for almost two weeks. Ivanova had been in and out during that time, but he knew he could not escape when she was gone. He just beat at the walls and screamed out for Lyta, but there was nothing. Nothing and no one. And when she was here…

Ivanova suddenly raised her head and looked up. “And so it begins,” she whispered. She took a deep breath and activated her link. Marcus did not hear her message, but he did pick up the name ’Welles’.

And then Ivanova had sat back, still looking at the ceiling. “It’s beginning,” she told him. “The Minbari are here, and my friends are here to fight them. We’ll win, of course. They can’t hold us off. We’re too strong.” Ivanova laughed, but it sounded false. “We’ll win, and after this, we’ll take the war to them for a change.

“We’re aren’t going to have to be afraid any more, Marcus. And neither are you.”

He was about to ask what she meant, when the door opened. In walked a security guard – it was Boggs – and he was dragging someone…

“Lyta!” Marcus exclaimed. He leapt up and moved forward, but, moving with a speed he found surprising, Ivanova extended her Minbari pike and formed a barrier with it. Boggs bowed to Ivanova and left.

Marcus looked down at the woman he had grown to care for. Lyta had done most of the chasing in their relationship, and he had been overcautious, certainly, but it was only recently that he was beginning to realise how much she meant to him.

She was bruised and battered. Her clothing was partially torn, and her face was covered with bruises and scratches. Her breathing was harsh and ragged, and her right eye was badly swollen. The left looked vague and unfocussed.

“Look at her,” Ivanova was saying. “The uniform, the gloves, the badge… all designed to make her stand out, to make her different, to make her special. But without her powers, she’s not special at all. She’s just like each of us, except that she isn’t, because she doesn’t have anything else. No family, no lover, no… no reason to get up in the morning.

“Psi Corps won’t let any of their members have those things. They won’t let their members be happy. They won’t let any telepath be happy, because it reminds them of everything they’ve taken away from themselves.”

Marcus was still looking at Lyta. She had raised her head to look at him. Her expression shot to his very heart.

“How you feel now,” Ivanova said to Lyta. “That’s how my mother felt every day of her life since they found her. That’s… that’s how I’d feel if you found me. I’ve been afraid of you… of this badge, since I was a child.” She bent down over Lyta, relaxing her hold on the pike across Marcus’ chest. He tried to step forward, but she pushed him back. She roughly pulled the badge from Lyta’s dress and held it up.

“But it’s just a bit of plastic. I’ve been afraid of this… afraid of you all this time for nothing. This is just plastic, and you… you’re just as weak as the rest of us, without your powers, without what makes you special.

“I needn’t have been afraid, and now I’m not.

“Look at her, Marcus. She’s been lying to you all along. She’s been using her power on you all along. She’s been raping you every time you’re together and it’s all the worse because you never knew about it, and she keeps on pretending that she loves you.